


Playing With Fire

by LucyMay



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyMay/pseuds/LucyMay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tohma's strict personal boundaries are put to the test when he finds that loneliness can sometimes bring together the most unlikely of bed-mates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

It’s the end of another long day, technically the beginning of the next one, and there’s nothing else for it than to go home to another empty place. Well, this one isn’t entirely empty. Another ghost haunts the halls these days. I can almost feel his presence, lately the only other one within my silent fortress. 

I’ve seen his regret in side-long glances, his pain in being so close but never close enough in those forced smiles of misleading calm. There is no tranquility beneath those even, steady words, no satisfaction from the sacrifices he has made. You'd never know how he suffers. He hides it all too well. But I know. I watch him with all too much recognition.

But it is nothing so unique in this little kingdom of dashed hopes and suppressed desires I have constructed like some memorial to my own unfulfilled dreams. Is there truly any occupant of this web of persons who is not spinning themselves a facade from the same common thread to mask their disappointments? 

Perhaps Shindou. Is it ignorance or an innate wisdom that causes him to walk so naked among us? Yes, there is a begrudging admiration within myself for this child. After all, he has made more progress to correct my greatest failure by stumbling than I have with all my most carefully constructed plans. But this blunt, unsubtle manner of his that has aided his success in so many ways has also had him unwittingly tread upon another. And this innocence that inflicts pain also leaves him blameless and all the more endearing to the heart he has crushed. Life is, if anything, cruel, is it not?

“Still working, Nakano-san?” I ask, peering into the studio door. I can see that he has given up the pretense of working to distract himself sometime ago, however, as the young man sits and stares into the empty recording booth with a pensive look. The look fades to one of neutrality as he swivels around in his chair to face me.

“Getting ready to close up shop?” he asks me with a smile. It is a ritual that has played itself out for many evenings over the past month, evenings where I've wondered how my empty studio eases his loneliness any more than his own empty apartment.

“Yes, I thought I might. It has been a long day,” I say. Hiroshi nods, and goes to gather his things, so that we may exit the building together as we have so many times before. We're veterans of the same war, Hiroshi and I.

“They should be coming back tomorrow,” Hiroshi says, shouldering his guitar bag. 

This surprises me, and I am briefly caught off guard as the unspoken dialog that has gone on between us these four weeks finds a voice. Yes, the taboo subject that is always just beneath the surface of our thoughts. Eiri and Shuichi were away on what the press so nauseatingly referred to as a honeymoon, a little sabbatical to themselves after all the drama of Eiri's visit to New York. I suppose Hiro is still under the delusion that he’s fooling anyone about how he feels about his beloved Shuichi, but this being the first mention of him in four weeks speaks volumes.

“That's correct,” I say with a purposeful surprise, as if I had only just realized it. “I am sure you and Shindou-san will have plenty to work with once he returns. You have been putting in a lot of effort to your song writing. I am intrigued to listen to what you've been up to.”

Hiroshi shrugs as he follows me out into the hallway.

“I suppose I’d better have something to show for it, hadn’t I?” Hiro says with an almost nervous sounding laugh. My, he must be tired this evening, I think, his façade is cracking is more ways than one. I wince, unbidden, though I don’t think he notices.

He’s afraid of me, I realize. But of course he is. He is a very bright young man.

“Relax, Nakano-san. That was not how I meant it, I assure you,” I tell him with a reassuring smile. Hiro gives me a shy, guilt tinged smile in return. 

“My apologies, Seguchi-san,” he says, then unexpectedly stops, placing his hand on my arm and meeting my eyes with his own. They are bloodshot, but sincere. I might have recoiled in different circumstances. I do like to keep things professional on the whole with my employees. But I suppose these weeks of shared loneliness have rather softened my view of the young man.

“I really do appreciate your letting me come in every night like this. I know studio time is anything but cheap,” he begins, but I wave my hand to interrupt him.

“No worries, Nakano-san. I rarely book the small studio you’ve been using. It is my personal one,” I say, giving the hand that has remained at my elbow a quick pat before walking on. “Even the large studios are usually cleared out this late.”

“Even, so, I really do appreciate it,” Hiro says quietly, as I press the button for the elevator.

“Whether you’re exorcising your feelings or trying to distract yourself from them, being an artist is often a fortunate thing,” I say as the door opens before me. Perhaps I am a little tired myself tonight, perhaps merely bored with the stagnation of my circumstances, who knows? Either way, I can see that I have gotten his attention as I turn to face him after stepping into the elevator.

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Hiro says, joining me in the car and pushing the button for the garage, while I call the front desk to let the overnight security know that we are leaving.

“Is it the same for ruthless businessmen?” Hiro asks, once I’ve put my phone away, looking me in the eye with a small smirk on his lips. Has my statement really dismissed his fear so easily? Bright, but still rather unworldly, it seems.

“I am an artist, too, Nakano-san,” I remind him, avoiding answering his question. “I started NG on a whim, after all.”

“You work very hard though, Seguchi-san. You seem to take your whim quite seriously,” Hiro says.

“I do appreciate your commendation of my work ethic,” I say as the elevator opens on the parking garage. Front and center, of course, is my own VIP parking spot. I see Hiro’s bike on the far side, though it is difficult to make out. One of the overhead lights seems to have blown. I must make a note of that.

“So do you miss the release of being an artist when you need a distraction then?” Hiro asks as we step out of the elevator.

“I suppose. Though producing is in itself an art. It isn’t all just ruthless business,” I reply, mirroring his earlier smirk.

“Then why all the late hours lately? I thought you were more of a nine to five guy. You’ve even been sending your secretary and Sakano-san home before you,” Hiro asks. I must admit my eyes widen at his boldness. I realize then, however, the simple tragedy of it all. Hiro is more afraid of going home than he is of me at this moment, and he‘s using whatever he can to stall the inevitable. It isn’t all that difficult to read another person when they are mirroring your own fears back at you.

“I might ask the same of you, Nakano-san. Why haven’t you been in the company of the charming Ayaka-san with all these free evenings?” I ask, knowing full well the answer. Ayaka’s family arranged for her to marry into another respectable temple family, not to be courted by a pop star. And certainly not a pop star so closely associated with the gay lover of the man who had humiliated her.

“Touche, Seguchi-san,” Hiro said. “You know I’m not a traditional enough match for her. And I’m afraid Ayaka-san isn’t really the rebellious type.”

“Then perhaps she lacked the fire you needed anyway,” I say. If it is a night for bold statements, I will play along with this little game Hiroshi has initiated.

“Perhaps,” Hiro says, looking towards his bike with a thoughtful expression before looking back at me. “So, Seguchi-san, I know it’s pretty late, but what do say to having a drink with me?”

And with that, it has grown far more interesting than I ever anticipated. I was certainly correct in assessing his wish to play with fire, it seems.

“Will my place suffice?” I ask over my shoulder as I walk to my car.

OoOoO

The penthouse is dark and quiet as usual as we enter, the lights of Tokyo gleaming beautifully outside of the floor to ceiling living room window. I turn on the lights and turn to see Hiro slipping off his sneakers, standing awkwardly just inside the door and admiring the place.

“No one’s home?” Hiro asks, cautiously stepping onto the white carpet from the wood floor of the threshold and setting his guitar case carefully by the wall. Oh, so it seems he does remember that I am married. It makes me even more curious at this boy known for having such an unerring moral compass being in my home right now. But of course a broken heart does often bleed one’s scruples dry in the desperate hope to be able to feel again.

“Mika hasn’t lived here for months, Nakano-san,” I tell him. He seems to relax slightly. “She is in Kyoto with her family.”

“Oh,” Hiro says, and I’m surprised he doesn’t question me further. I’m also relieved. The complications of my marriage are just not something I wish to get into right now.

“Help yourself to the bar here,” I say, waving my hand at its black lacquered surface, near the entrance to the kitchen. “There’s also beer in the refrigerator if you wish. I’ll be right back.”

I step into my bedroom and head for the closet, placing my hat on its rack and hanging up my fur trimmed jacket. Lastly, I place my gloves in their designated drawer and give myself a once over in the mirror. Luckily I don’t look as tired as I feel.

Slyly I return and quietly observe the handsome auburn haired youth as he sips my bourbon and looks through my record collection. He’s never openly presented himself as anything but straight. I wonder if he knows the full implications in coming home with me so late at night. I wonder at myself a little in taking him up on the offer, but my motivations are embarrassingly simple. I am bored, mildly curious, and, I will admit it, lonely.

“Do you need ice?” I ask. He jumps a little at the sound of my voice.

“No, I’m fine,” he says. I slip past him, close enough to smell him, to feel his heat, and deftly select a John Coltrane album from the shelf by his hip. He watches me closely as I slip the record from its sleeve and place it on the turntable.

“I’ve never had a record player,” he says as he observes.

“Trying to make me feel my age, Nakano-san?” I ask teasingly as I drop the needle in the groove, and go over to make a drink of my own.

“I don’t think you’ve aged a day since the first Grasper album,” he says with a smile, and I know then beyond any doubt that he wants me, his gray eyes quickly assessing my face and body.

“I certainly hope that isn’t true,” I reply, stepping around him slowly with my drink and leading him to the sofa.

He sits close like I’d hoped he would. He asks about the music we’re listening to, the music I’m working on producing, hopefully hints at my perhaps giving what he’s been working on a listen. And somewhere into our second drink, I decide to make the first move, leaning into that firm, lanky body and pressing my lips to his. He doesn’t stall or pretend he doesn’t know why we’re here, and I’m delighted when he takes control and presses me onto my back with a breathy groan. 

I waste little time after that before taking him to my bed. He trembles eagerly as he helps me undress, and I must admit that it’s quite flattering. I had my fleeting thoughts that perhaps I was a mere stand-in for Shindou, but there’s no mistaking his desire when he murmurs my name and kisses my bare shoulder. I recline on my lavender silk sheets and watch him pull off the rest of his clothes before he joins me. It’s a wonderful view.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispers and smiles before kissing me. He’s not a bad kisser, but I can sense his inexperience, the way he hesitates as he explores my body with his hands, his calluses from the guitar strings stroking up and down my sides and chest.

I take control for a while, slowing him down before he over stimulates himself, and guiding him, showing him what to do, where to touch and how. I decide it is best if I let him be the one to enter me, as he’s obviously never been with a man before.

What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm, for sure, when he is inside me at last and begins to rock his body into mine, panting and moaning as I guide his hand between us to touch me. It’s exhilarating to be the focus of all this want, this animalistic need, and I realize how much I’ve longed for this feeling, how I’ve craved it, as I wrap my legs around him and pull him deeper, encourage him to thrust harder.

It rather shocks me when I come first. He doesn’t last much longer though, and collapses onto me, brushing my damp hair from my face and kissing me with unexpected tenderness, before pulling from me and rolling off to the side, smiling from ear to ear and panting heavily as he looks at me.

“That was incredible,” he says, his voice ragged from his vocalizing during the act. “I -- I knew sex was supposed to feel good, but damn.” He gives a shaky laugh, and turns on his side, cupping my face towards him as his words sink in.

“Was that your first time, Nakano-san?” I ask, quickly adding, “Not that I could tell, certainly, but from what you just said.” He nods, and looks down sheepishly. I place my hand to the one at my cheek, and kiss his palm.

“You were wonderful,” I tell him, and he looks back at me, his gray eyes seeking my sincerity, and finally accepting it.

I’ll admit I am a little thrown by this information. Hiro is an incredibly attractive man, after all, and has his fair share of Bad Luck’s fan base fawning over him. It is then I begin to feel a little unsure of this decision, and wonder what exactly this turn of events means to him.

“Is it -- I mean, is it cool if I crash here tonight? I’m pretty wiped out,” he says with a yawn. 

“Well, I certainly have no intention of getting back out tonight to take you home, Nakano-san,” I say teasingly. He grins, snaking an arm beneath my neck and pulling me closer.

“Good,” he says, his eyes fluttering closed. “And for the love of God, call me Hiro.”

OoOoO

I wake up to Hiro snoring in my ear. I can’t help but be a bit amused by the situation. It has been a while since I’ve woken up to find a teenager in my bed.

He stirs as I get up to go to the restroom, his eyes opening just a slit and then widening with a start at the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Sorry to disturb you,” I whisper, sliding out of bed. I can feel him watching me as I go to the adjoining bathroom, but he says nothing. I clean myself up a bit before I return, and find him just outside the door. I smile and make a show of leaving the light on for him while he takes his turn, and I climb back into bed.

I retrieve my phone from the nightstand, and send a quick text to Sakano, letting him know that I do not plan on coming in until sometime well into the afternoon, and quickly turn off my phone to avoid the frenzied reply this is sure to bring. Sakano’s insecurity in his own abilities is of great value most of the time, but can be rather bothersome on occasion. I’m sure he’ll assume that I plan to meet Eiri at the airport.

Eiri. He’ll be home today, I think to myself and close my eyes, lying back on the bed. Will he even notice that I am not there, not waiting for him as always? It is doubtful. He has tried in so many ways to tell me that he does not need me anymore, not like he once did, and I have tried in just as many not to hear him. In any case I have already made elaborate plans with the help of K for their return, to divert the press from harassing them. You’re welcome, Eiri-san.

The bed dips beside me, and Hiro’s strong arms are pulling me towards him again. I open my eyes and gaze into his, dark with desire, and know he is more than ready for round two. I think I surprise him when my body rises to meet him, when I crash my lips into his. This want to be wanted has consumed me, awakened something within me. I lean into him, guiding him down onto the pillows and straddle him.

Our second coupling is as intense as the first, as I ride him. He sits up, kissing me fiercely and flipping me onto my back, entering me again, lifting my leg and the angle is perfect, perfect…

“We really should shower now, but I don’t want to move,” I say with a sigh, my head pillowed on his chest, our breathing just now stilled enough to allow me to speak. He laughs softly, his chest rumbling pleasantly against my ear.

We shower together. It’s strange, sharing this familiarity with this young man I have known for over a year now, but know so little about outside of my observations. Somehow it feels even more intimate than the sex.

“You know, a lot has always been made over Shuichi idolizing Nittle Grasper, but I was always a pretty big fan myself,” Hiro says as he shampoos his long hair. “While Shuichi would be drooling over Sakuma-san when we watched your concert videos, I was usually watching you.”

“Oh?” I ask. “Not the lovely Nori?” I step aside and let him step into the stream to rinse. I watch the suds slide down his body, my own responding like some Pavlovian reaction now that I knew the pleasure it could bring me.

“Oh, I looked at her, too, of course,” Hiro said with a laugh. “But yours is the talent that always intrigued me the most. Among other things.”

“Other things?” I prompt him to continue despite myself, with a creeping feeling of embarrassment.

“I never even told Shuichi this, but I always thought you were hot. Like, really hot,” Hiro says, looking a little embarrassed himself, his attempt in hiding it all the further making it obvious as he looks away to find the conditioner. “I guess you could say that this is kind of an old fantasy of mine come true, you know?”

You’d think I would be immune to flattery by now. I’m one of the most visible and respected celebrities in the country. Everyone wants a piece of Seguchi Tohma, and they’ll say whatever they need to get into his good graces. I even have my own personal lapdog to tell me how talented and what a genius I am at least a hundred times a day. And yet here I am, goading a teenaged boy, my own employee, and admitted fan, no less, to tell me I’m pretty.

And positively loving it more than I want to when he does.

Oh, Eiri, have you really brought me so low? Am I that starved for the love you deny me? I really need to get back my control on this situation.

“So, why did you never tell Shindou-san that you were interested in men?” I ask lightly, as Hiro rinses out the conditioner. He nearly chokes on the stream of water as he opens his mouth, whether in shock or to respond, I’m not sure. He bends double for a moment, and I pat his back gently until he recovers, standing up and giving me a look that is almost wounded, before turning to shut off the water.

“How did -- you mean you know?” Hiro asks, his back to me as he leans on his hand against the shower stall.

“Hiro,” I say softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, which begins to shake, not from tears but from a self-deprecating laugh.

“I guess you must think I’m pretty ridiculous, don’t you? The selflessly devoted best friend, always waiting in the wings and watching another man make him miserable, make him happy, whatever the case, but always being there to listen, to encourage him. I guess I blew my chance pretty hard, didn’t I?” Hiro asks bitterly, running a hand over his face.

“Well at least you knew you ever had one,” I say, opening the shower door and stepping out into the steamy bathroom. I throw Hiro a towel as he steps out behind me, and pull on my bathrobe, throwing a towel over my hair as I go back into the bedroom. I sit on the bed and look reluctantly at the phone. I have fourteen messages. All from Sakano, none from Eiri. 

I make a quick call, and flick on the television. And there they are, Shuichi looking blissful, and Eiri looking grumpy, jet-lagged, and simply breath taking. It looks like the press caught them at the airport after all. Chalk it up to another one of my failures. Hiro emerges from the bathroom and sits beside me on the bed in silence as I watch.

“I’ve called you a cab, Nakano-san. It should be here in about fifteen minutes,” I inform him.

“Thank you, Seguchi-san,” he says, and begins to gather his clothes.

Did I expect him to object in any way, I wonder to myself as I watch him go, moments later, receiving a polite bow and a thanks for my hospitality. Did I want him to? I don’t even know anymore.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to continue this one, and I would love to hear feedback. This pairing is challenging, but surprisingly fun to write. Anyway, please note that from here on out I will be switching POV back and forth from Tohma's first person to Hiro's third. The switches in POV will always be separated by scene breaks, so I sincerely hope that this flows in a readable way and will not be confusing.

Shuichi hugged Hiro so tightly he could feel his ribs creak, as they stood in the doorway to his and Yuki’s apartment. He’d taken the cab from Tohma’s place here, hoping that seeing Shuichi would make him feel better, feel normal again. He reveled in the feeling of Shuichi’s small body in his arms, and the sweet familiar scent of his hair for a moment, before sensing he was being watched. He glanced over the singer’s shoulder, to see Yuki observing them with an unreadable expression. It had never occurred to Hiro that Yuki knew before. But after Tohma had revealed so casually this morning that he was all too aware of Hiro’s affection for his best friend, he couldn’t help but wonder. Did it make Yuki feel threatened in any way? Or did he just pity or privately ridicule him?

At least he could be secure in the doubt that Yuki would ever bring up the subject when he and Shuichi were alone. He didn’t exactly imagine the quiet and anti-social man volunteering to bring it up. But it still left Hiro wondering if everyone knew how he loved Shuichi except for Shuichi himself. He imagined it made him appear to be a fool in their eyes, and he supposed he probably was one in a way, but Shuichi’s friendship meant more to him than his pride ever would.

Hiro reluctantly released Shuichi as he bounced away to show him something or other he had acquired on his trip, happily chatting and laughing while Hiro made an effort to listen.

“Nope, that’s not it. That one is for Seguchi-san,” Shuichi said, rolling his eyes, and tossing the shopping bag aside, while digging through another. 

Hiro absently stared at the discarded bag for a moment, thinking about the fair haired man he‘d been in bed with only hours before. It still seemed unreal, even with the all too vivid and recent recollection of the NG president flushed and naked beneath him, untouchable, flawless Seguchi Tohma losing himself in pleasure, calling his name…

“Um, Hiro?” Shuichi said, craning his neck and trying to get his attention.

“Sorry,” Hiro said with a smile, and stepped closer. 

“Be careful with that, idiot,” Yuki said to Shuichi, scooping up the bag. “That liquor I got Seguchi cost a fortune.”

Hiro thought of the way Tohma had looked when he’d left him, appearing deceptively delicate as he sat on his bed in a fuzzy white robe, an unguardedly forlorn expression crossing his face as he watched the happy couple’s return on the television. A part of him had felt angry and rejected at the way the man had dismissed him from his home. He’d felt used, dirty. But really, wasn’t he being just a little hypocritical? He’d used Tohma, too. They’d both gotten out of it exactly what they had wanted: a distraction from being alone, and to feel desired. He really shouldn’t have expected for it to mean anything more, even if the sex had been pretty incredible.

But still, when he’d seen the helpless expression on the man’s face, knowing exactly how he was feeling at that moment, he’d felt the strongest urge to hold him again, an urge that had nothing to do with the lust that had motivated the affair. How many people had ever been witness to a moment of vulnerability like this from the feared and renowned Seguchi Tohma?

“Um, so, where is Seguchi-san anyway?” Hiro asked, unable to help himself, though knowing how strange his inquiry must sound. “It’s rather unlike him to not be around to welcome Yuki home.” Shuichi looked at him with utter confusion.

“I dunno,” Shuichi said with a shrug, and then looked thoughtful for a second. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty weird.”

Yuki’s phone, which had been dumped near where Shuichi knelt on the carpet along with everything else when they came in, began to ring. Shuichi picked it up and looked at the screen.

“Yuki, your sister is calling,” Shuichi called to where Yuki was reemerging from the kitchen.

“Just ignore it,” Yuki said. Shuichi frowned.

“But she’s pregnant, Yuki! She might need us for something,” Shuichi scolded him. Yuki scowled, but took the phone obediently, walking into another room as he answered.

“Mika-san is pregnant?” Hiro asked, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, you didn’t know? I’m going to be an uncle! Well, I guess I did just find out myself right before Yuki and I left, so it’s not like I’ve had a chance to tell you. It’s kind of scary thinking of Seguchi-san being a daddy, isn’t it? I mean, he’s already so terrifyingly over-protective of Yuki,” Shuichi said with a laugh. “Of course, Seguchi-san is just kind of terrifying period, come to think of it.”

“Terrifying, huh?” Hiro asked distractedly, pretending to be absorbed in an American music magazine Shuichi had brought him, while he tried to process the fact that the man he’d just slept with had neglected to tell him he was about to be a father. Had Tohma meant to imply that he and Mika were estranged last night, or had Hiro only been hearing what he wanted to in his lust-fueled imagination?

“Um, yeah,” Shuichi answered, rolling his eyes. “We are talking about a man who would likely smile and speak softly while he stabbed you to death. You never know what he’s thinking. I mean, he looks like an angel, but I even think Yuki is afraid of what he’s capable of sometimes.”

“Oh,” Hiro replied softly, turning the page.

OoOoO

The office is running smoothly, nothing is on fire, no one has blown up the building, and yet Sakano is freaking out as predicted. He follows on my heels, informing me of nothing that is really of any consequence as I walk towards my office, tossing off unneeded instructions to calm him. I nod to my secretary and barricade myself behind the door with a sigh of relief. K is waiting for me inside. How he always manages to do this without my secretary noticing, I’ll never know. I’ve even had the outside windows inspected for some breach in security, to no avail.

“So I see that operation ‘do not let Eiri-san get mobbed at the airport’ was futile,” I say and give him a cheerful smile that makes him swallow hard.

“Never mind,” I say with a wave of my hand. “How is Eiri-san? Did he make it home safely?”

“I couldn’t keep the press from getting tipped off, but I did get them out of there without a hitch,” K says, fingering his gun holster with a grin.

“Very good, K. See if you can keep them away from the apartment as much as realistically possible,” I say with a sigh. Another day, another headache of some kind.

“Already on it. Say boss, you wouldn’t know why Nakano-san’s bike is still in the parking garage, would you? Doesn’t he always leave when you do?” K asks. I glance up at him carefully, trying to assess how much he knows or suspects. His expression is one of genuine concern, of course. Who would ever believe that Seguchi Tohma had taken one of his employees as a lover last night?

“Hiroshi had trouble starting his motorcycle. I ran him back to his place,” I say, shuffling through the papers on my desk, and trying not to wonder too much why Hiro had really not come back to retrieve his bike.

“Hiroshi. Right,” K said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Did I forget to tell you that you are dismissed?” I ask with a tight smile, trying to keep my composure. To my relief, he takes the hint and leaves.

I look at my phone for a while, scrolling through the numbers.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end answers.

“Eiri’s home safely,” I say.

“Yeah, I know. We have televisions in Kyoto.”

“Oh, you saw that then. How are you feeling?”

There is a long silence. Mika inhales deeply, and I know that she is smoking. That can’t be good for the baby…

“I lost it.”

“No, Mika-san, you can’t mean --”

“They tried to keep me in the hospital, but I left. I couldn’t take it there anymore.”

“I’ll be there by this evening.”

“No. Don’t come. Please.”

“But Mika-san --”

“It wasn’t yours, damn it. What do you care?”

“I care because it was yours.”

“That’s -- that’s very sweet of you, Tohma. Really, I mean it. But I can’t deal with you and this both.”

“But I have to be there. Your family thinks it was my child. What will they think if I don‘t come?”

“Oh, is that what you care about?”

“Mika, that’s not fair --”

“I told them, Tohma. They know about the affair, the divorce, all of it, okay? Trust me, having you here would just make everything worse. They practically worship you, and they’re not too happy with me right now.”

“But I’m on your side, Mika-san. Anything you need --”

“I just need you to stay out of this, okay? Go take care of Eiri. He’s the one you really care about.”

The line goes dead. She hung up on me. My beautiful Mika-san…

But she isn’t mine anymore. I lost her a long time ago.

The hours drag on, as I make calls, sign documents, the usual tedious responsibilities. I cannot seem to hide my distraction today though, as Sakano appears and very apologetically and cautiously calls my attention to a glaring error I made while approving some graphics from our advertising department. He doesn’t dare imply it was a mistake, although it obviously was, and I thank him, which seems to make him even more nervous if anything.

Ryuichi calls and chatters on enthusiastically about his new life in Los Angeles, while I pretend to listen. My thoughts should be with Mika, but they aren’t, which I suppose is the reason she is soon to be my ex-wife. So what are the memories that have me so distracted while I phone in my work day? A firm chest, a deep throated moan, auburn hair and gray eyes dark with desire…

Yes, one of the most respected and feared men in the music industry is sighing and mooning over awkward, if quite pleasurable, lovemaking from a one night stand. 

The telephone startles me from my thoughts, and I am further caught off guard by the familiar voice that answers mine.

“Eiri-san?”

“Yeah. Hey, I talked to Mika.”

“I see. Are you going to see her?”

“Hell no,” he says, then pauses. “She told me not to come.”

“Yes, I as well. She was quite stubborn on that point, but I suppose she knows what is best for her right now.”

“Yeah. Anyway, it sucks. It sucks for both of you.”

“Eiri-san, you know that the child wasn’t mine.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says softly. “Anyway, you weren’t at the airport, so I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead or anything since you’re usually all up my ass the second I’m back.”

“Shindou-san told you to call,” I say. I’ve been pinching the bridge of my nose to making the stinging in the backs of my eyes subside, but now I can’t help but give a small smile.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he replies.

“Did you enjoy your trip?”

“It was -- surreal.”

“Isn’t it always? Incidentally, you wouldn’t know if Shindou-san has spoken with Nakano-san, would you? K was curious as to his whereabouts.”

“Well I don’t know where the hell he’s been looking for him, but he needs to check the studio. He came by to see the brat, then he said he was going to NG.”

“I see.” So Hiro is here. I suppose there was really no need for anyone to alert me to the fact when he came in. “I’ll let K know then. I‘ll drop by soon to get my souvenir.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. The brat’s whining, so I’m going to go stuff some food in his face to shut him up now.”

“Welcome back, Eiri-san.”

I spend the next few hours in the usual way, consulting Oricon Style, calling my contacts at the RIAJ, calling distributors, threatening distributors with subtle politeness, sending K out to make some not so subtle threats, making at least one grown man cry, talking to one of my six lawyers, assigning Sakano to deal with three others I do not have time for… Another productive day. And yes, somewhere in all this I may have found a second to wistfully recall a time when all I had to do was make music -- my own music.

We have thirty artists signed currently. Each of their managers want to speak to me personally on a nearly daily basis, and roughly all of their concerns are trivial and easily delegated to someone else lower down in the chain of command. At least ten of these artists are requesting that I personally produce their latest album. I haven’t had that kind of time since ASK’s debut, which feels like a century ago.

And just like that, I see the clock, and know that somewhere in my distraction I have said goodbye to my secretary, K, and even Sakano at some point, and that an empty penthouse and an empty bed await me as a reward for all my hard work today.

And I know that just down the hall, Hiro is waiting for me to send him home.

I stand outside the door for a moment, and peer through the small vertical window. Hiro is sitting at my piano with his back to me, and takes a pencil from his mouth to scribble notes onto the paper before him. This particular studio was one I designed for myself, with every innovation imaginable for self recording and composing. I wrote Nittle Graper’s last album here, mostly by myself, and played the recordings for Noriko and Ryuichi in one of the larger ones so that they could add their own touches to the songs. Hiro is the only other artist I’ve ever allowed to record here, though I doubt he knows this. I would never let his destructive little friend within a mile of it.

“I’m going home, H -- Nakano-san,” I say as he turns at the sound of the door opening. He has no doubt caught my little slip by the way he looks at me. Hiro slides over on the piano stool, and gestures for me to join him. I hesitate, but eventually give in with a sigh. I’m much too tired to recover my dignity right now.

“I’m sorry about the baby,” Hiro says quietly, looking at the keys, his long fingers resting on them. “I heard Yuki-san telling Shuichi earlier today. I didn’t know Mika-san was expecting.”

So I guess we’re just going to jump right off at the deep end, I think to myself, wondering what else I expected from the sincere young man. I suppose I had hoped that same discretion he applied to hiding his feelings for Shindou might work to my advantage in pretending last night had never happened, but I really should have known better.

“If it eases your conscience, Nakano-san, the child was not mine,” I say, picking up the sheet music.

“Mika-san had an affair?” Hiro asks, looking at me. I nod, keeping my eyes on the penciled notes before me.

“With her mechanic,” I say with a mirthless snort of laughter, placing the sheet back on the stand. “It’s rather humiliating, but I can’t say it was unexpected.”

I think about the man who had been sleeping with my wife, watching him from my car at a distance after I’d had K trail her to confirm my suspicions. He was a large, brawny type, dark and very handsome in a rugged sense. The very antithesis of myself in every way.

When I confronted her, she begged me not to have him hurt or killed, and told me about the baby. I wondered just what sort of monster she really thought she was married to. After ten years of marriage, it hurt to know that she didn’t understand me somewhat better. I have done things, things that some might find to be a bit, well, ruthless, even cruel. But very little have I done with any reason other than to protect and benefit the ones I love. I offered to cover everything up and raise the child as my own, even after that, and she refused. I assumed she would change her mind once the child was born, but of course now I’ll never know.

In the end, I did get petty and bend my own rules. The NG corporation now owns its own auto mechanic garage, or at least the property it once stood on. It will soon be a very nice office building. And the first bid for office space that came across my desk yesterday? A marriage counselor. Funny, huh?

“I’m really sorry,” Hiro said.

“It is probably for the best in the end,” I say with a shrug. “I think the thing that really bothers me about it is that I have brought any shame to the Uesegi family by not making it work.”

And Eiri-san is no longer my brother. That is the thought that hurts the most.

“It sounds like Mika-san is the one responsible to me,” Hiro said. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

“No, I cannot place the blame on Mika-san,” I say, and stand, making my way towards the door. I’ve allowed this conversation to go on for too long.

“Do you still love her?” Hiro asks before I’ve made it out of the studio. I look back to see that he still hasn’t moved from the piano bench, and has just begun to gather his sheet music.

“Not in the romantic sense, no,” I reply, and turn back to the door. 

I decide that it is not essentially necessary that I wait on him as I reach the elevator at the end of the hall, but he exits the studio, guitar in hand as I push the button, and I feel I have little choice. The best way not to be seen as prey is to not make it so obvious that you are trying to escape, but I‘ve already slipped up there. I realize then that I had every intention of getting caught, everything else be damned. I want him again. I cannot help myself. 

I allow the door to close and open it again when he catches up with me, and we step into the car as I make my usual call to security.

OoOoO

Hiro watched the effortlessly elegant man as he said a few quick words on the phone, and tried to put his thoughts together before they reached the garage.

He’d done a lot of thinking today in the studio, wrestling with the fact that he had not only seduced a married man, but an expecting father. He had tried to hate Tohma all day, not only for not sharing this information, but for not being with his wife right now at such a tragic time. But this new information he had pulled from the man changed things considerably.

He knew he had not imagined that feeling of sadness he had sensed from the carefully reserved man the previous evening, and the strange unspoken connection they had seemed to make over the last month as they exited this empty building together. And with the same impulsiveness that had driven him to follow Shuichi into music instead of medical school, and to pursue Ayaka even when he knew it was doomed from the start, he had made a move to get closer to a man he used to fantasize about, even if that man was now not only his boss but someone he now knew to have a rather alarming reputation.

And even after the rather cold way he had been pushed out the door this morning, he couldn’t say that he regretted it, especially now that he knew that Tohma’s marriage was all but over. At the very least, it was a pretty amazing way to have lost his virginity, he thought, smiling to himself as Tohma put his phone back in his pocket. He knew the man was trying to put him back at a distance from him, and that he was taking a pretty big risk right now, but he had learned the hard way about not taking opportunities in matters like this.

Hiro stepped closer, Tohma’s sea green eyes widening slightly in curiosity, his breath quickening in anticipation, as Hiro pressed his lips against his lightly. Hiro pulled back and studied his face, caressing his cheek as he swept a stray lock of platinum hair aside and kissed him again, moaning at the hungry response he received, Tohma winding his arms around his neck. The elevator doors opened on the parking garage, but neither of them were paying much attention.

“Hiroshi-san,” Tohma breathed heavily in his ear. “You do have a way of making me forget myself.”

“Hmm, good,” Hiro murmured, nuzzling his neck. “Because you’re pretty much driving me crazy right now.” Tohma pushed him away gently.

“We can’t do this here,” Tohma said, glancing pointedly at the security camera aimed at the open elevator. “You know the way to my place now, right? Follow me on your bike.”

Hiro bristled slightly, wondering at the need for him to be kept like some dirty little secret, but nodded, heading for his bike. He’d been pretty lucky that things had gone as well as they had, all things considered.

Tohma’s apartment building was only a short drive from the NG building, and it wasn’t long before they were taking another elevator up to the penthouse. Hiro studied the side of Tohma’s face as they ascended. He said nothing, looking thoughtful as he toyed with his gloves, and Hiro wondered what was going on in his mind. 

“Here we are,” Tohma said with a smile, stepping from the elevator as it opened and unlocking the door. “Would you rather skip the polite niceties and go straight to the bedroom?”

“Suits me,” Hiro said, his mouth going dry as Tohma gave him a heated glance over his shoulder and led him to his room. 

Tohma flicked on the lights and stepped into his large, walk-in closet. Hiro observed him as he sat on the bed, watching curiously as the blond carefully removed his hat, coat and gloves, putting everything neatly in its place. Tohma appeared to be rather fastidious in his habits, not that Hiro was very surprised. Something about watching him shed the most iconic parts of his wardrobe seemed to really drive home just who it was that he intended on bedding. He suddenly felt a rush of nerves.

“I -- I’ll be right back,” Hiro said, getting a curious glance from the keyboardist as he fled to the bathroom. He stood over the sink for a moment, and glanced up at his reflection, trying to channel some of the reckless bravado he’d had so much of last night, when he was simply seeing the man he’d had posters of in his bedroom, as the elusive and untouchable man behind a desk at NG.

He saw just how overly simplistic that perception was when he finally collected himself and re-entered the bedroom to find Tohma lying naked on the bed and beckoning him with a coy smile. He was so different in this moment than the image he tried to project to the public with his eccentric wardrobe, the large coats and layers that seemed to hide him, divert attention from the delicate beauty of his features. He was tall, but slender and pale, his large eyes and long neck giving him an appearance that was graceful, and simply lovely to behold. Hiro wondered if he’d been so nervous or horny before that he hadn’t really looked at him, feeling like he was seeing something he really hadn’t appreciated before.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night, Hiroshi-san?” Tohma asked with a pleased grin.

“I honestly think that I could,” Hiro said, making his way quickly to the bed, shedding his shirt along the way. 

Even with this being their third time together, it still surprised Hiro just how passionate a reserved and quietly calculating man like Seguchi Tohma was in bed. He kissed him with such intensity, touching him in ways that nearly drove him mad. There was something so uninhibited in his responses, the way he clung to him and cried out in pleasure.

Hiro felt something almost akin to fear as he tried to catch his breath afterwards, pulling from the man and rolling onto his back. He knew he was already getting in over his head, as he failed to imagine that anything else could ever feel this good. What had he gotten himself into?

“You don’t mind if I stay the night again, do you?” Hiro asked when his breathing finally returned to normal, moving in against Tohma’s back and kissing his shoulder.

“No, it’s fine,” Tohma said sleepily, pressing his body back, and giving an appreciative hum as Hiro wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled the crook of his neck. “Sleeping alone has been very strange.”

“You miss her, don’t you?” Hiro asked softly. He felt Tohma stiffen slightly in his arms, much to his frustration. Why could he make love to the man, but not ask him personal questions?

“I’m sorry,” Hiro said. He felt Tohma sigh, as he turned around in his arms to face him. He was surprised when the man gave him a slight smile and a tender kiss, before burrowing the side of his face into his chest and relaxing.

“Let’s just go to sleep now, okay?” Tohma asked with a yawn.


	3. 3

The next morning, Hiro found himself alone in the bed, sitting up and stretching muscles that were still a bit sore from last night with a groan. He could see through the open door to the steamy bathroom that Tohma had recently showered, and looked at the bedside table to find his clothes gathered and neatly folded. He got out of bed and collected them, going into the bathroom to clean himself up and change, pulling his long hair back into a ponytail.

He found Tohma at the kitchen table in his robe, the paper in one hand and a teacup in the other. The morning light shone on his disheveled platinum hair, the ends still damp and clinging to his neck. Hiro took a deep breath, wondering if he would be welcomed, or abruptly shown the door again like last time.

“Good morning, Hiroshi-san. Did you sleep well?” Tohma asked, with a smile so bright that Hiro was unsure if it was chilling or sincere. He supposed the fact that they were still on a first name basis was a good enough sign, and relaxed.

“Like a baby,” he said with a wink. Tohma looked pleased, making something as simple as taking a sip of his tea look refined.

“Would you prefer coffee or tea?” Tohma asked, sitting his cup and paper aside and rising.

“Coffee, if it isn’t too much trouble,” Hiro said, taking a seat at the table.

“Not at all. I thought I might make us omelets,” Tohma said, walking to the pantry. 

“That sounds excellent,” Hiro said. 

This was entirely too surreal, Hiro thought to himself, as he watched Seguchi Tohma humming to himself and making him breakfast in his bathrobe. If someone had told him a week ago, or hell, even yesterday that this would be happening…

His phone rang, and he winced with embarrassment at the Nittle Grasper ring tone that meant Shuichi was calling, glancing into the kitchen to see if Tohma had noticed it. He saw the man give a rather enigmatic smile as he cracked an egg into the mixing bowl.

“Hey Hiro, what are you up to? Yuki’s really busy, and he’s in one of his moods. I thought I might swing by,” Shuichi chirped on the other end.

“No! Um, I mean, I’m not at home right now,” Hiro said with an uneasy laugh.

“Oooh, I see,” Shuichi said with a giggle. “And where would you be this early? Still someplace from last night?” Hiro fought not to groan at his friend’s accurate guess.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Hiro asked in a forcefully playful tone.

“Of course I would, you jerk! We haven’t hung out in a month! I need my Hiro time,” Shuichi whined, making Hiro smile. He’d missed him so much that it hurt. But of course, when it came to Shuichi, those bittersweet pangs in his heart and stomach had always been par for the course.

“I’ll be at NG today if you want to meet up for lunch or something,” Hiro said. 

“NG? Why are you hanging around there? We’re not recording anything,” Shuichi said, confused.

“Well, I might have been a bit productive while you’ve been gone,” Hiro said self consciously. It was a bit of an understatement. He’d written around twenty songs, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to share them.

“Really?” Shuichi asked, sounding uncertain. “You’ve been recording without me?”

“That’s right, Shuichi. I’m going solo,” Hiro said with a laugh. “Don’t be freaked out or anything. I’ve just been, well, bored without you around.” And lonely, Hiro thought. And kind of depressed. Oh, and fucking our boss.

“Well, I guess that’s okay then,” Shuichi said. “You’re at least going to let me write the lyrics, right?” Oh, and I wrote the lyrics to some of the songs, too, Shuichi. And I don’t know if I can convince you they’re all about Ayaka.

“Of course, silly,” Hiro said. I love it when you write lyrics about how much you love Yuki for songs I wrote about how much I love you. It’s great.

“Awesome! I can’t wait to hear them! Send me a text when you get there,” Shuichi said. Hiro said goodbye and hung up the phone.

“Shindou-san, I presume?” Tohma asked, placing spinach and feta cheese omelet before him, complete with garnish. Hiro nodded.

“This looks amazing, Tohma-san,” Hiro said, then paused, looking at him to gauge his reaction. He’d never addressed him by anything other than Seguchi-san.

“Thank you. My omelets actually are pretty amazing,” Tohma said cheerfully, returning to the kitchen to bring him his coffee, and to get his own plate. He slid back into his seat beside him, Hiro catching a tantalizing glimpse of his thighs as he crossed his legs beneath his robe. His gaze rose to Tohma’s long, perfectly manicured fingers as they deftly unrolled a cloth napkin into his lap with a flourish.

“They do look good, but I assure you they’re best when eaten,” Tohma said teasingly upon noticing Hiro’s distraction. Hiro blushed and gave and embarrassed laugh, before lifting his fork.

 

Hiro had gone home not long after breakfast, after Tohma had politely mentioned that he had business to attend to. It was hardly as abrupt as the last morning’s dismissal, but still left him with no further clues as to what exactly this whole thing he had going on with the older man was. There was no goodbye kiss, no mentions of another rendezvous tonight, and nothing particularly personal in what little conversing they’d had over their meal. Hiro still wasn’t completely sure what to make of this situation or how he felt about it. It was exciting and frustrating at the same time, really.

He stopped by his place for long enough to shower and change, agonizing for a moment over stuffing another change of clothes into his bag, before deciding to hell with it and grabbing a shirt and boxers on his way out. He was going to the studio a bit earlier than usual so that he could meet up with Shuichi, as he had intended to arrange for them to meet there. There was one track at least that he had set aside especially for the singer to play with. While Shuichi did not have the talent Suguru did with arrangements, he felt this particular composition played to Shuichi’s strengths lyrically and musically, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on his friend’s face when he heard it. He knew that while Shuichi enjoyed his lyric writer and lead singer status, it had always been a little bit of a sore spot for him that he had been pushed to give up working on the instrumental aspect of their music.

He took his usual route to the small studio on the top floor, saying hello to Sakano and K on the way, and walked into the little booth that had become a second home over the course of the past month. Even in all the time he’d spent there, he’d only now begun to notice the little things that had escaped him before, the things about the room that were indelibly linked to the man who had designed it. It had the same color scheme and couch as his own apartment. The keyboard and piano were Tohma’s preferred brand. There was even a picture of the NG president standing between Yuki and his wife hanging on the wall that he had never paid much mind to before. If he breathed deeply enough, he could even catch the slightest scent of the man about the place. He sat at the piano and closed his eyes for a moment, when he heard someone open the door behind him.

“I thought I’d finally look in on your progress in here,” Tohma said, walking towards him with a smile. “I have been tempted a few times to have a listen to the playbacks, but since this has been a more personal project, I thought I’d wait for your permission.”

“You know, I’ve been so into with my own things in here, that I never really thought much about all the freedom you’ve given me, letting me come here so much,” Hiro said. Tohma gave a small sigh, joining him once more at the piano, his gloved fingers lovingly gliding over the keys for a moment.

“Yes, I’m aware it is a bit unprecedented,” Tohma said. “I’m a rather observant person, Hiroshi-san, and I am especially prone to file away information I feel may be to my benefit down the line. One of the things I noticed rather early on when I signed Bad Luck, was that you were clearly in love with Shuichi-san. I thought at one time this might prove useful should he prove to not be the best thing for Eiri-san.”

“So you thought that you could use me to throw a wrench into the situation,” Hiro said with a tight-lipped frown.

“It was nothing motivated by cruelty, I assure you,” Tohma said. “I thought perhaps the two of you were a better fit, and that Eiri-san would be able to free himself from a mutually destructive situation. But when I finally did accept that their relationship was hardly a fleeting thing, I knew that you had very likely done the same.”

“So, you let me find a way to distract myself out of pity,” Hiro said, his hair falling over his eyes as he gazed down. Tohma looked up from the keyboard at him, laying a hand on his elbow and shaking his head.

“I’m not really the kind of person who is prone to pity, Hiroshi,” Tohma said. “It was more a matter of respect, actually, of knowing the burden of always having to love from afar, of loving so deeply that you sacrifice yourself to make the ones you love happy. I wanted to help you in some way, because I felt it might ease my own pain somehow.”

Hiro looked at him, surprised at the unguarded expression on the face of a man who always seemed to be so in control, and frightened of the way it pulled at his heart to think that this man had been watching him, that he had been touched by feelings that Hiro had held so tightly inside himself that he had never dreamed anyone else had noticed.

“Are you in love with Yuki-san?” Hiro asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. Tohma shook his head.

“I do love him, yes, and far more than I should,” Tohma said. “But my desires for him are not the kind that you are thinking. I have always felt deeply responsible for Eiri-san, and it is his happiness and well-being that comes first.”

Hiro felt that there was much unsaid in this statement, but had lost the determination to press the matter, as he sensed the unease and melancholy he had caused with his question. He touched Tohma’s face, the other man turning his gaze to him, and kissed him softly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hiro said. “Thank you, Tohma.”

Tohma’s eyes softened, and he returned the kiss, which deepened, Tohma’s velvet gloved fingers closing around his neck as their tongues met and they drew closer together.

In their distraction, they didn’t notice that the door had opened behind them, until they broke away quickly and turned around at Shuichi’s startled gasp.

OoOoO

Shindou-san stands there, gaping like a fish, as I try to make my exit as calmly as possible. I steal a glance at Hiro on my way towards the door. He still looks stunned, and I feel slightly guilty leaving him alone in this situation, but assume it is for the best to give the friends privacy in such an awkward moment.

So, I suppose the proverbial cat has been released from his bag, I think with a shake of my head as I walk back towards my office. I should have known better than to be so careless. It is quite unlike me, and I wonder if perhaps in some way I actually wished for something like this to happen, to at last lay some sort of claim on my new toy.

Soon Eiri-san would know that I had taken an attractive teenaged boy as my lover. Even K cannot cover up this one. Unless, of course, I had him shoot Shindou-san, I think to myself with a smile. Don’t worry, I’m only joking. Really.

Never mind, though. This, I suppose, was inevitable from the moment he kissed me last night, when I’d realized just how badly I had wanted that kiss to happen.

I had been as giddy as a schoolgirl this morning, making him breakfast, taking care of him, I think, rolling my eyes, as I reenter my office. I love taking care of others, as evidenced by my attraction to complicated men who always seem to need me, like Ryuichi-san, and of course my beloved Eiri. Perhaps it because I was never taken care of myself. My mother was an aloof, cold-hearted bitch, truth be known. 

Mika-san had never needed me for anything outside of the money and status I provided her, while little Eiri-san had attached himself to me from the day we met. He’d filled a void in my life that I had never even known was there. That beautiful, intelligent child who was once my shadow was now but a shadow of himself because I had failed to protect him. 

It isn’t long before Sakano is rushing into my office with something easily fixed presented as a disaster, the phone begins ringing off the hook, and I am allowed to push these things aside for a while.

OoOoO

Shuichi stands in the doorway for a long moment after Tohma exits the room before he speaks.

“Hiro? Did I just catch you making out with -- with Seguchi Tohma?” Shuichi asks.

“I thought you weren’t coming for another hour,” Hiro said.

“Well, yeah, but I was up anyway, and Yuki’s all pissy because I used his computer and claims I downloaded some virus, and -- hey! Don’t change the subject! What the hell is going on with you, Hiro? I’m gone for a month, and not only are you making out with guys, you’re making out with the scariest man in Tokyo?” Shuichi asked, his voice growing louder with every word.

“Damn it, Shuichi, calm down. And shut the door behind you,” Hiro said with a sigh. Shuichi came in and closed the door, sitting on the small sofa facing him.

“Now will you tell me what the hell is going on? Is he blackmailing you or something? Is he threatening to fire you, or kill your family?” Shuichi asked, getting worked up again and bouncing in his seat. Hiro shook his head, placing a hand to his face.

“No Shuichi, no one is threatening to kill anyone. We -- we’ve just sort of started, well, seeing each other -- kind of,” Hiro said, not sure he knew how to explain what was going on between him and the NG president when he wasn’t sure he understood what it was yet himself. Shuichi was still looking at him like his brain was broken.

“But he’s married!” Shuichi said, raising his hands. “And you’re straight!” Yeah, he knew that was coming, Hiro thought to himself with a frown.

“Tohma-san’s marriage is over, Shuichi. The baby she miscarried wasn’t his, and they’ve been talking about divorce for a while now. You can ask Yuki-san. He probably knows all about it,” Hiro said.

“Mika-san had an affair?” Shuichi asked. Hiro nodded.

“And the -- um -- you being straight thing?” Shuichi asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Not as straight as you apparently thought I was,” Hiro said with a shrug. “In fact, I always had a little crush on Tohma-san when we were in school. I just never really saw any reason to mention it. I mean, it‘s not like you ever told me you liked Sakuma-san that way.” Hiro added the last part a bit more bitterly than he’d meant to, but Shuichi didn’t pick up on it.

“Tohma-san,” Shuichi spat, wrinkling his nose. “So, you’re really dating him now? This is just beyond weird.”

“Well, I don’t know if dating is exactly the word,” Hiro said uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, we do have something going on. It wasn’t really anything we planned. It just sort of happened the other night.”

“You’re sleeping with him?” Shuichi asked, his eyes growing wide. “But you -- you’ve never -- with Tohma?” Hiro couldn’t help but give an embarrassed smile.

“Holy shit, this is weird,” Shuichi said, standing up and pacing. “I thought maybe you were old-fashioned or something, or just hadn’t found the right one -- but Tohma?”

“Why does this bother you so much?” Hiro asked. Shuichi stopped pacing and turned to him.

“Because he’s dangerous, Hiro! Do you not remember the whole demand I break up with Yuki or my career is over incident? And that Yuki broke up with me because he was afraid Tohma was going to do something insane? He’s the kind of person who won’t stop at anything to get his way. For all we know, he’s killed people!” Shuichi ranted.

You mean like Yuki-san? Hiro thought bitterly, knowing when to hold his tongue. He’d never felt like Shuichi had exactly settled upon a prince himself.

“Don’t you think that you’re overreacting just a little bit?” Hiro asked. “Look, I’m not going to claim to understand or defend everything he’s ever done. I’m really just now getting to know him. He’s a complicated person. I would think you of all people would understand.” 

“I guess so,” Shuichi said with a frown. “I’m just a worried about how trustworthy someone like Seguchi-san is. I don’t want you to get hurt is all.” Hiro smiled at him, reaching over and ruffling his soft, pink hair.

“Don’t worry, Shuichi. A little heartbreak hasn’t killed me yet,” Hiro said. Shuichi looked slightly confused, as Hiro stood and walked over to the mixing table. “So, do you want to hear a song I wrote for you while you were gone?”

“Yeah, of course!” Shuichi said, hopping out of his seat and walking over to join him. Hiro opened the laptop on the table, opening the program to play the file.

“So, um, how was it? Your first time?” Shuichi asked with a smirk. Hiro paused for a moment, watching the program load, then gave Shuichi a side-long glance, grinning widely.

“That good, huh?” Shuichi asked with a laugh. “Did it hurt a lot? I know it did when Yuki and I started doing things.”

“Um, well, actually,” Hiro said, giving Shuichi a look.

“Uh-uh, no way,” Shuichi said and doubled over in laughter. “Seguchi Tohma’s an uke?”

“Not so loud,” Hiro said irritably, despite the room being sound-proofed.

“Come on, you’ve got to admit it’s a little funny,” Shuichi said with a titter. 

“Oh, grow up,” Hiro said, bonking him on the head playfully with his fist. “It’s not like we’ve established some rule about it. It’s just the way things have sort of gone so far.”

“Hey, I’m jealous, if anything. Yuki never lets me top,” Shuichi grumbled, then looked at him curiously. “So, you’re saying you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to switch it up?” Hiro shrugged.

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it, but I don’t see why not. I mean, he really seems to enjoy it,” Hiro said.

“Does he now?” Shuichi said, waggling his eyebrows.

“What can I say?” Hiro said with a grin, shrugging. “ I definitely haven’t been getting any complaints.”

“You really do like him, don’t you?” Shuichi said, looking at him with wonder. “I mean, this is the happiest I’ve seen you since the whole Ayaka thing.”

Hiro glanced back down at the computer, searching for the right file. He had liked Ayaka, she was sweet and very pretty, and he had wanted to get to know her better, but he knew the real reason he had seemed down enough for even someone as thick-skulled as Shuichi to notice had much more to do with Shuichi himself. He supposed his brave face wasn’t as convincing as he’d thought, and it was a small relief to have his brief time dating Yuki’s former fiancée to blame it on.

“You really think so?” Hiro asked. He wasn’t sure he was quite ready to over-analyze how he felt about Tohma just yet.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I was surprised how much you and Ayaka breaking up seemed to get to you since you hadn’t really known each other very long, but you looked so sad when Yuki and I left on our trip. You usually never let anything get to you like that. And now you seem, I dunno, happier.

I may not be Tohma-san’s biggest fan, but I am a fan of you being happy, so go get ‘em tiger!” Shuichi said with a goofy laugh, giving him a slap on the back. 

“Well, I’m certainly relieved to have your blessing,” Hiro said sarcastically and smiled.

OoOoO

I have decided to turn the reigns over to Sakano-san and take a very long break from NG for dinner. Eiri doesn’t eat well when he’s trying to meet a deadline, and this recent trip with Shindou-san has nearly pushed him past it. And of course, I have missed him.

He greets me with the surly lack of enthusiasm I expected from showing up unannounced at his door with all the makings of a gourmet meal, but I can tell by the way he eyes my bags that he is actually starving. Shindou-san is nowhere to be found, to my delight, and I find a scrawled note on the refrigerator announcing that he has gone to the movies with his sister, surrounded by a nauseating amount of little drawn hearts, as I sit my bags on the counter.

“And where is Shindou-san this evening?” I ask, solely to amuse myself. Eiri shrugs.

“Brat was whining earlier about how I wasn’t paying enough attention to him. Who the hell knows?” he mutters. If Shindou-san had really expected Eiri to see his note, he’d chosen a poor place to put it. He’ll never understand Eiri like I do.

Eiri presents me with a marvelous aged bourbon, while I unpack the bags, along with a set of crystal glasses to drink it from. One of them is cracked, no doubt courtesy of Shindou-san, though he claims it occurred in transit. His eyes dart in a very particular manner when he lies. Nevertheless, I am pleased by the thoughtfulness of the gift and give him a peck on the cheek in thanks. He could do with a shave.

I am well into preparing the first course before he makes any attempt at conversation other than some muttered remark when he finally does find Shindou’s note while getting a beer. He doesn’t drink when he writes, so if I hadn’t come by he’d still be wondering where Shindou-san had run off to, as if he isn’t under enough stress.

“So, I hear you’re currently fucking Nakano-san,” he drawls as he exhales smoke from his cigarette. So I guess Shindou-san did find the opportunity to get Eiri to listen to his chatter today when he came home from his lunch with Hiro.

“I’m currently chopping onions for our Tsukune,” I say airily. “But yes, I have slept with him. What of it?”

“What are you up to?” Eiri asks, eyeing me suspiciously. I give a little snort of laughter.

“I wasn’t aware you solely owned the inclination to take young lovers, Eiri-san,” I say, clearing the chopping board into a bowl.

“And I suppose it is mere coincidence that your young lover is the closest friend of my own, huh?” Eiri says, instinctually checking on a simmering pot of rice on the stove. I’m the one who taught Eiri to cook. He used to help me in the kitchen all the time when he was younger, always asking questions.

“Not everything is about you, Eiri-san,” I say, trying to keep a straight face, as he raises an eyebrow. “Besides, I would think that you would be at least a little glad that someone else has finally occupied Hiroshi’s attention.”

“What, you think I’m seriously threatened by that little punk?” Eiri said. He tosses it off so dismissively, but I can tell by the way his nostrils ever so slightly flare that I’ve struck a nerve. I really should be ashamed of myself, playing on Eiri’s delicate insecurities in such a way. 

“Not so little, actually,” I say with a smile. “In any case, no, I don’t expect you to feel threatened. Shindou-san clearly adores you. I just imagine that having someone pining for your lover in clear sight all the time is probably tiresome.”

“And you think you’re the one to put an end to all that pining,” Eiri says with a smirk. And now it is my nerve that is struck. Eiri always does give as good as he gets. Except of course in things like showing tireless love, patience and devotion. Those things he takes and takes and never returns. But of course, my debt will never truly be paid, so who am I to begrudge him?

“For once, Eiri, I’m not trying to solve anyone’s problems but my own,” I say with a weary sigh. His eyes widen. It isn’t often that I surprise him, and I rather enjoy it.

“Well forgive me for not being used to you not having some sort of agenda,” Eiri says, clearly still skeptical.

“Eiri-san, I am a man who has discovered his wife of ten years has been seeing someone else. I am on the verge of what is sure to be a bitter divorce, that will result in losing the only real family I have. My only agenda at the moment is to keep my sanity,” I say, as evenly as I can manage, keeping my back to him and trying to focus on preparing dinner.

“And sanity is screwing someone a decade younger than you,” Eiri said. “Sounds more like some mid-life crisis shit to me.”

“Sanity is not turning away from someone when they are offering what you need,” I say, grating ginger into the bowl. “Or did I neglect to mention that he was the one who asked me out for drinks? So perhaps you can stop painting him as Little Red Riding Hood to my Big Bad Wolf.”

“So what you’re saying is that in this fairy tale you’re the damsel in distress to his Prince Charming,” Eiri said. I turn my head to glare at the little smirk I know he’s wearing.

“So now you’re just going to make fun of me,” I say. “If you’re going to be condescending on top of cranky then go wait at the table. And by the way, thirty-one hardly counts as mid-life, thank you very much.”

“Yes, Oniisan,” Eiri says, and leaves the room.

I stand there, completely stunned for a long moment at what I’ve just heard. It is the first time he has addressed me as his brother since he was sixteen years old. My heart soars, and I want so badly to follow him and return this unexpected show of love. But I know better than to ruin such a rare moment, and simply cherish it in silence.

But that has always been Eiri’s way. Just when you think you can’t take his coldness anymore, when he almost has you convinced that he truly does despise you, he’ll win you back with one little word.


	4. 4

Hiro looked out over the roof at the bustling Tokyo night, smoking his second cigarette in a row and wondering why he was still here. He had gathered from Sakano’s even more frantic than usual behavior when he’d encountered him in the hallway that he had been left in charge of things, meaning that Tohma had left for the evening. That he had left without saying a word to him. 

He’d had fun catching up with Shuichi, despite the rather uncomfortable way their afternoon had begun. He’d loved watching the way his best friend lit up over the song he’d written, and his instant enthusiasm in working on it. Hiro had made him a copy of it and a few other compositions he hadn’t written words for so that Shuichi could listen to them at home and get inspired. They would be back in the studio with Fujisaki soon, and this strange little phase of his life would end, with everything going back to normal.

He wondered if that included his relationship with the NG president as well, thinking about what Shuichi had said about him seeming happier. He wasn’t sure how he would feel if Tohma were to just act like nothing happened now. Maybe Shuichi catching them together had convinced him it was all a bad idea. Perhaps he was just being way too over-sensitive about him leaving so suddenly, he thought as he finished his cigarette and took the stairs back down to the top floor. In any case, he may as well pack up and go home, he thought with a heavy sigh.

He stepped into the studio, startled to find another person waiting for him inside. Tohma swiveled around in his chair at the mixing table and smiled at him, tousling his light blonde hair as he removed the headphones he was wearing. Hiro was unprepared for the little skip his heart gave at the sight of the man.

“You look upset,” Tohma said, his smile faltering. “I shouldn’t have taken the liberty of listening to the playbacks yet.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hiro said with a laugh. “I was just surprised to see you. I thought you’d left for the night.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad that’s all. I had dinner with Eiri-san,” Tohma said, then gave him an mischievous grin. “Sakano-san doesn’t even know I’ve returned yet. I’m considering just skipping out early.”

“I was getting ready to skip out myself, actually,” Hiro said. “I gave Shuichi the songs I wrote for Bad Luck, so I guess I’m kind of done in here.”

“What about the songs you didn’t write for Bad Luck then?” Tohma asked. 

“I’m really not sure what to do with those,” Hiro said with a shrug. 

Tohma beckoned him closer with a leather gloved finger, and turned back to the mixing table, unplugging the headphones. One of Hiro’s compositions flooded out from the speakers. He’d originally recorded it on piano, adding the guitar part, but it was still far from complete, especially without the vocals. Hiro felt very self-conscious having the main song writer for Nittle Grasper listening to his efforts so early in the process. And he would have chosen possibly the most personal song from the lot, Hiro thought to himself. It was perhaps first among the ones he’d feel uncomfortable sharing with Shuichi, at least with the lyric sheet on hand.

“Which one is this?” Tohma asked.

“Non Bad Luck,” Hiro said, the words nearly sticking in his throat. Even without the lyrics, the song reverberated in his ears with all the longing and pain he’d poured into it. This song was about finally realizing he’d lost his chance to tell Shuichi how much he loved him, because he would always love someone else.

“That’s a pity then. It’s quite beautiful, Hiroshi,” Tohma said, closing his eyes as he listened.

Hiro allowed it to play for a moment longer, before he couldn’t take it anymore, reaching past Tohma to turn it off. Tohma looked up at him curiously in the sudden silence.

“Are you okay, Hiroshi?” Tohma asked, his blue-green eyes full of concern, breaking Hiro from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Hiro said, staring down at him. Cautiously, he reached out to caress the side of Tohma’s face, wondering if he even had it in him to risk feeling that kind of pain again. Tohma’s eyes fluttered closed again as he inclined his head into his touch, and Hiro knew that he really didn’t have much choice in the matter.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Hiro asked. Tohma opened his eyes and nodded, giving him a look that made him feel weak.

OoOoO

As they exited the elevator, Hiro turned to Tohma, giving him as serious look. Tohma stopped short from where he had been headed to his car as usual and gave him his attention.

“We’re leaving a lot earlier than usual,” Hiro said, trying not to look nervous. “So, I was thinking about, you know, maybe taking you on an actual date this time? I know you’ve already eaten, but maybe I could buy you a drink somewhere?”

“Why Nakano Hiroshi, are you actually proposing to court me?” Tohma asked with a playful grin. 

Hiro’s stomach dropped into his boots, as he wondered if the sophisticated older man was having a good laugh at his expense. He suddenly felt ridiculous, glancing from Tohma’s perfectly tailored suit to the luxury sports car that probably cost more than the house he’d grown up in and wondered what in this situation had even given him the idea that he was anything more than a temporary amusement to the wealthy and successful musician. It was no different from Ayaka, really. Seguchi Tohma would want someone closer to his age, with breeding and good family, like Mika-san, not some scruffy teenaged pop star who grew up in the suburbs.

“I -- I don’t know what I was thinking,” Hiro said with a shrug, forcing a smile, but not quite meeting his eyes. “We can just go to your place.”

“Oh?” Tohma said, with an exaggerated pout. “Because I was going to accept the proposal.” Hiro looked up at him, his smile becoming genuine.

“Really now?” Hiro asked, trying to regain his pride a little by raising his eyebrow cockily.

“Really,” Tohma said, stalking towards him with all the slow grace of a panther, before burying his gloved fingers in Hiro’s long hair and pulling him into a searing kiss. Hiro wound his arms around his slim waist, under his overcoat and kissed him back.

“What about the security cameras?” Hiro asked with a smirk as their lips parted, Hiro still holding him in place.

“I had the ones in this part of the building disabled,” Tohma said with a smile. Hiro frowned, letting him go. That hadn’t been quite the answer he was expecting.

“Hiroshi, what is the matter?” Tohma asked.

“I guess I’m a little confused,” Hiro said. “Here you just agreed to go on a date with me, and now you’re acting like I’m your dirty little secret again.”

“Well, I didn’t agree to a public date so much as the sentiment, Hiroshi,” Tohma said with an apologetic smile, placing a hand on his arm. “I am not quite divorced yet.” 

“You think Mika-san would use this against you after what she’s done?” Hiro asked in surprise.

“I think her lawyers could convince her to if they found out about it, yes,” Tohma said with a nod. “As of right now, I think I can get her to sign for a mutual separation, since I’m currently holding all of the cards, but if she has an infidelity charge to use to fight her own, then things might get complicated. The press alone would be a nightmare,” Tohma said, shaking his head.

“But Yuki-san knows about us now, right? I mean, Shuichi tells him everything,” Hiro said.

“Eiri-san won’t tell anyone, of that I‘m sure,” Tohma said. “But for the time being, we will have to be discreet.”

“I understand,” Hiro said, with a bitter half-smile. “I guess I won’t be taking you out any time soon then. It sucks, but at least now I know it isn‘t because you‘re ashamed to be seen with me or something.”

“Hmm, quite the contrary,” Tohma murmured, hugging Hiro from behind. “I think I’d quite enjoy showing off my handsome young lover. All this time I’ve been a rock star, and I’ve never had my own scandal.”

“Probably just because you’re sneaky,” Hiro said playfully, turning around in the embrace to face him and giving him a peck on the nose.

“You shouldn’t listen to rumors,” Tohma said, scolding him with a broad grin.

Hiro’s heart sped up at Tohma’s impish expression. He had the so-called scariest businessman in Tokyo in his arms, and he yet he couldn’t help but find him kind of adorable at this moment.

“I have an idea,” Hiro said. “Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before?” Tohma’s eyebrows raised, as he gave an uncertain glance towards where Hiro had parked.

“No, I can’t say that I have,” Tohma said. “It sounds rather exciting, really.”

“Come home with me?” Hiro leaned in and asked softly, nipping his earlobe. “We’ll pretend it’s a really lame first date, and I invited you over for a movie and a pizza.”

“Ah, that sounds novel, to say the least,” Tohma said breathlessly, and laughed. “But won’t it look a little conspicuous when you bring me back tomorrow? We’ve been so reckless already.”

“Easy. Park around the block, and I’ll drop you off by your car,” Hiro said, kissing his neck.

“Hmm, clever Hiroshi,” Tohma murmured. “How many other married men are you having an affair with? You’ve clearly done this before.”

OoOoO

Around the block just happens to be my newly built office building. Hiro questions my permission to park there overnight, to which I casually mention that I own the place. I make no mention of just how I came to be its owner. It seems this property is just destined to assist in extra marital activity.

Hiro looks so good on that bike, I think, loving the sexy way his long hair falls when he removes his helmet and smiles, waiting for me to join him. He must believe I am nervous, for he takes a moment to talk about riding the bike, and how he’s never been in an accident. He removes my hat, which I forgot that I was wearing, placing it on his own head with a grin as he hands me the spare helmet. I cannot help but give a genuine smile. People rarely feel at ease enough around me to be playful, with the exception of Ryuichi. It’s just one of the little expenses of choosing to be respected over being loved, I suppose.

The loud engine startles me at first. I wrap my arms around his waist and we’re off. I press my face into his back as we take a tight turn, and then I laugh, truly laugh, like I haven’t done for as long as I can remember. It’s exhilarating, this freedom I feel as I cling tightly to his body, as the world speeds by, and the wind rips through my clothes. My doubts in the wisdom of indulging Hiroshi’s little proposal for my own amusement are for the moment dispelled. Perhaps playing along with this farce will prove enjoyable after all.

His place is smaller than I expect, modestly furnished, rather messy. I thought I had paid him rather well when the album went platinum? In any case, I try not to look too uncomfortable, as I slide out of my Italian shoes and hang my designer coat on a rather rickety coat rack next to his leather jacket.

I’ll admit to being quite nosy while he excuses himself to the bathroom. I peruse his CD collection first. My, it seems he really is a fan. All of my own albums are there, I note, even the rare singles. Nothing especially exciting in its variety, however. Perhaps I can help broaden his horizons a tad before this thing runs its course.

Then I spy books. Lots and lots of books. Did I forget somewhere along the line that he was this well educated? I rack my brain, and the best I can come up with is a memory of him rapidly answering every question on that ridiculous quiz show at the beginning of his career. I read the titles, fascinated at the breadth of subject matter, even spying more than a few of my own favorite novels in dog-eared and much loved paperback editions. I am impressed.

I move a rumpled tee shirt out of the way and sit on the couch, which I sink into a bit. I notice a framed Magritte print on the wall, another by Dali, and smile to think that he also appreciates fine art. I notice a corkboard where photographs, concert tickets and various things have been tacked. There’s a ticket to one of our earlier shows, two more from the Be There tour. A picture of him and a man I do not know, presumably his brother by the resemblance. And of course, several pictures of himself and Shindou, including one where they couldn’t have been but around thirteen, wearing their school uniforms and making silly faces. It is odd, seeing Shuichi with his natural hair color, and Hiro’s cut short. Even stranger is the thought that I had likely already been married for a couple of years when that picture was taken.

“Sorry I took so long,” Hiro says when he finally reappears. “I guess I didn’t really think through how messy my place is before I invited you. I straightened up the bathroom and bedroom a bit, but I know in here’s a lost cause now.”

“It’s fine, Hiroshi. Relax,” I say and smile at him.

“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got beer and soda. Or I could make you some tea,” he offers, still appearing anxious to appease me for the state of his apartment. It is rather endearing, I‘ll admit.

“I’ll have a beer, thank you,” I say. He goes to the kitchen and brings back two bottles. I was rather expecting something along the lines of the cheap swill Eiri adores, but he hands me something that looks like an imported craft brand. Of course, I’m no beer aficionado, as I rarely drink the stuff. 

We talk for some time about the books I had noticed, and I’m pleasantly surprised at how insightful he is in his interpretations. We find we have several favorite authors in common and compare which works we most enjoyed, and even have a long discussion about one of Eiri-san’s novels, from which I glean that while Hiro does not much care for him as a person, he does respect his talent. I’m not entirely sure that even I had such understanding of literature at just nineteen. I find myself looking at him somewhat differently than before. He has certainly gained my attention in ways that I had not expected.

In some ways, it really is like a first date, discovering our mutual interests in this way, and in others almost like talking to an old friend, as we rarely have to explain the who and where of our anecdotes. Not that I share many of my own. I encourage him to do most of the talking when it comes to more personal sharing. He makes me laugh more than once as he tells me of some of his antics in school. His stories of course heavily feature Shuichi, but I try not to let it annoy me.

It occurs to me as the evening wears on that I am truly enjoying his company. I thought that perhaps our differences in age and background would make this immediately speed itself into the bedroom, and that I would cure Hiroshi of this adorably naïve notion of his that he wants pursue me on a deeper level. I am instead finding that he is far more intelligent, clever and eloquent than I had ever imagined. There is little sense in denying it. I like him.

“Are you ready for another beer?” he asks, getting up. I nod, realizing I’m nearly finished with my third bottle. It is actually very good stuff.

“I thought I might order pizza. Are you hungry?” he asks. To my surprise, I am. I glance at the clock, seeing with that we have been talking for hours.

True to his earlier proposal, we settle on the couch for a movie when the food arrives, a movie set in Ireland about a group of musicians. It is really quite good, and very funny. It feels so strange, enjoying such simple things as eating junk food in front of the television. My idea of unwinding has usually been watching people at the upscale piano bar I love near NG, where they always leave me alone with a chilled glass of their finest wine. I haven’t been there in ages, which shows how long it has been since I even attempted to relax.

“I know you’re probably used to something a bit more gourmet, but hey, at least we don’t have to do dishes,” Hiro says, pausing the movie long enough to put away the leftovers when we‘ve finished eating.

“And no kitchen to clean,” I agree. “Nevertheless, I am going to make you dinner sometime.” I worry that he probably eats like this all the time. It can’t be good for him.

“Come here,” he says when he returns, stretching out on the couch beside me. I assume this means we’re done with the movie, but I’m surprised when he just pulls my back against him, and grabs the remote. I settle in front of him, lying my head on his arm as he starts the film again. Somewhere along the way he begins to absently stroke my hair, and it feels so nice that I nearly fall asleep. I somehow make it to the end credits, and turn to him.

“Take me to bed?” I ask, getting exactly the reaction I was going for by his expression.

His bed is rather narrow, the sheets are cheap and stiff, and everything smell like cigarette smoke. But once he’s making love to me, it hardly matters. This may as well be heaven. It seems I have trained him very, very well.

“You must think I’m quite the tart, letting you ravish me on our first date,” I joke with him afterwards, lying on my stomach with my head resting on my arms. He laughs, and turns on his side, running his hand down my back in a way that’s so feather-light that it almost tickles, making me shiver.

“I thought I might let you ravish me next time, if you like,” he says. I am very surprised at the offer. I had certainly thought about it before, but was hesitant to bring it up.

“Hmm, I just might take you up on that,” I say. “Only if you want it though. I am very satisfied, Hiroshi.” And the frightening thing is that I know that it is more than just the sex that I have found satisfying this evening. 

“We’ll just see how things go then. Just thought I’d throw that out there,” Hiro says with a yawn, and opens his arms in invitation. How can I possibly resist?

I’m not sure how long I lie awake after that, his soft breathing against my cheek as he slumbers. It seems like some strange dream, how quickly and how perfectly things have gone with Hiroshi. I’m not used to anything coming this easily in life, and I feel as if I would be a fool to just let my guard down and accept things for what they seem.

“And you think you’re the one to put an end to all that pining.” 

Eiri’s words ring in my head as I think back to when we were in the studio, and the look on Hiro’s face when I played that song. I didn’t need to see the lyric sheet to know what that particular composition was about or whom it was meant for.

Hiroshi is a very open and honest man, and I have no doubt that I at least hold his affection, and certainly, no doubt, his lust, but I’m beginning to think that I want more. Perhaps it wasn’t Hiroshi’s naïve notions that I intended to crush after all. Certainly, I have a reputation for being a man who always gets what he wants, but I’m not quite sure it applies to matters of the heart. It certainly hasn’t in the past.

I wonder if perhaps it would be wisest to end this before I start to get too possessive. Everything up until now has been so nice, almost, dare I say, pure. I’m not sure a man like me is capable of not corrupting such a thing. I loathe the idea of hurting him, but in the long run I always manage to only hurt those I love it would seem.

OoOoO

“Damn it, Hiro, will you concentrate! I expect this sort of behavior from Shindou-san, but you? I thought we were the sane professionals here,” Suguru demanded, looking almost hurt.

Bad Luck had just returned to the studio to work on their next album, which was being produced by Ukai Noriko, as Sakano had stepped up to fill in for the absent label president. Tohma had been in Kyoto for over a week now, working out the details of his divorce from Mika. Hiro had not seen or heard from him since their “first date”.

Hiro didn’t understand. Everything had seemed to go so well that night. They had seemed to connect on a deeper level than before, something far more than just the sex. And hadn’t the man agreed to start officially dating him, sort of? Even that morning Tohma had given him no indication that anything had gone wrong, even if he had left a little earlier than Hiro had hoped. When he’d called NG that evening to see if he wanted to meet up again that night, he’d been informed that Tohma had already left for the day to prepare for a trip he’d told Hiro nothing about.

“Oh, calm your tits, Suguru, it’s the first day back,” Shuichi said, rolling his eyes. “Do you want to take a break, Hiro?” Hiro nodded, placing his guitar back on its stand, and walking out without a word.

He had been pissed off all week, but somehow being back at NG had made him realize that more than anything, he was just hurt. He had seen the man nearly every day for a month until last week. Even before their affair there had been something comforting about their brief exchanges every evening, and now that he knew him better, knew how the other man felt in his arms, knew just how vulnerable he could be when they were alone together, he wanted to be near him again. He missed him, and he couldn’t understand how everything they had shared could mean nothing.

He realized that he had wandered up to the top floor in his distraction, his feet automatically taking him back to the small studio near Tohma’s office. He walked in and turned on the light, finding everything the way he had left it over a week ago, and sat at the mixing table. He had left one of his notebooks there, he saw, flipping to a random page. He saw the lyrics for one of the songs he’d written, the one that Tohma had liked so well, and sighed, glancing over his ode to a one-sided obsession he had harbored for the past four years for a man he’d never even kissed, a man who had never shown the slightest interest in being anything more than his friend. Somehow, it felt almost childish to him right now.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been scribbling away in the notebook, when he heard the door open and turned to find Shuichi walking to his side.

“Suguru foaming at the mouth yet?” he asked with a smile.

“I think I’ve subdued him for another fifteen minutes with one of your tracks. He’s busy dissecting it and putting it back together as we speak,” Shuichi said. The vocalist laid a hand on Hiro’s shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. 

“You’ve got it pretty bad, huh?” Shuichi asked softly. Hiro looked away and nodded.

“Well, it’s not like he died. He’s just in Kyoto. He’s getting a divorce! Things might be better when he gets back,” Shuichi said enthusiastically, then calmed at Hiro’s unconvinced expression.

“Why don’t you just tell him that you’re falling in love with him when you see him?” Shuichi asked.

“What if that’s the problem?” Hiro asked. “What if he was just looking to screw around and get his mind off of things, and then realized my dumb ass was taking it too seriously and spoiling all the fun?”

“Then in that case, he’s an even bigger son of bitch than I even thought he was,” Shuichi said with a frown. “If you tell him, and that’s his answer, then at least you’ll know he never deserved anyone as great you to begin with.”

“Thanks, Shuichi,” Hiro said, smiling at him. “When did you get so good at giving advice?”

“Well, I do have a lot of experience with complicated men who won’t ever tell you what they’re thinking,” Shuichi said with a laugh. “I’ve also been getting good advice from a pretty smart guy I know for years.”

“Oh? Maybe I should have gone to him instead,” Hiro said with a smirk.

“It’s too late. He’s dead,” Shuichi said solemnly.

“Oh? What happened to him?” Hiro asked, playing along.

“Fujisaki Suguru killed him for moping over his cousin when he was supposed to be working,” Shuichi said, fighting back a laugh.

“Ha fucking ha,” Hiro said, getting up from his chair and following Shuichi back into the hallway.

“Incidentally,” Shuichi asked as they neared the elevator, “does Suguru have any idea that you’ve been sleeping with his cousin? If things work out, won‘t that make you like, his step-cousin or something?”

“You are just entirely too funny today,” Hiro said, bopping him on the head.

OoOoO

I love the Uesugi’s garden. From the first time I visited this serene temple, it felt like I was escaping into another world, a better one than the one I had come from. There was certainly nothing as frivolous, expensive and time consuming as a garden at the Seguchi household, God forbid. I grew up in a mausoleum. Nothing living ever flourished there.

This will likely be the last time I ever stroll across the little bridge over the koi pond that leads to the stone bench where I proposed, where I asked to be a member of her family. Mika walks beside me now, looking far older than she did that day. She has said nothing of her lost child in all the time I’ve been here, but I can see the toll it has taken.

The lawyers have finally been sent away, and the papers were finally signed early this morning. I am once more a single man. In the end, I believe I have been quite generous with the share of assets I finally presented her. Mika-san should never have to work again unless she so chooses, and can more or less continue the standard of living to which she is accustomed. I could have fought to give much less had I decided to take things to court, but I really saw no need to prolong this. I’d rather leave this situation with as little animosity between us as possible.

“So, what are you planning to do now, Mika-san?” I ask her, watching a disappointed koi reject a floating leaf that he has mistaken for food.

“I’ve been thinking about buying a house here in Kyoto,” she says, pulling her loose sweater around her in the gentle breeze as she gazes across the pond. Mika-san has always grown cold easily. “Father hasn’t been well lately. I want to be close by.”

“Of course,” I say, realizing that we have grown so far apart that I cannot think of anything more to ask. She has not mentioned her mechanic either in all this time. It must not have worked out between them. Pity.

“Tohma, I --,” she begins, shaking her head.

“Yes?” I ask. She looks at me with a thoughtful frown before she speaks.

“I’m not sure how to put his. I know that you care for Eiri very much. I’m glad that you do, and I’m grateful for all the things you’ve done for him. I don’t want you to stop looking out for him, but -- please leave him and Shuichi alone,” she says imploringly.

“Mika-san, I’m not sure I understand. I never thought you much cared for Shindou-san,” I say. Mika has always been rather reluctant to give her blessing to her younger brother‘s relationship due to the stress it has placed upon their father, and indeed Eiri himself.

“It’s never been personal. He’s a sweet kid. And the longer they stay together, the more I realize that Eiri truly does love the little weirdo,” she says with a fond smile. “Tohma, I think if Eiri ever lost him it would be the end of him. Please promise me that you will not interfere. Love him, look out for him, by all means, but that part of his life? Just leave it be, okay?”

“Mika-san, in all honesty, I have no idea what you are so concerned about,” I say with a laugh. “I have done absolutely nothing to interfere with Eiri-san and Shindou-san in quite some time. I have accepted that Shindou-san does appear to be what he needs.” 

Indeed, I am finding this conversation baffling. Ever since Eiri brought Shuichi back home when he defected to XMR, I have done little more than be a spectator to that circus, as much as it pained me at times. It was this that finally convinced me of Shindou’s positive effect on Eiri, as I saw him truly exert himself for the first time since Kitizawa, to for once not be so indifferent and passive about everything. Certainly, in my heart of hearts I always wanted to be the one to bring him back to life like that, to redeem myself once and for all, but I love Eiri more than myself. I would never stand in the way of even his smallest progress towards peace of mind.

“I’m talking about that boy,” Mika says. “Would you like to tell me exactly what you are playing at, getting so close to Shuichi’s best friend?”

“I‘m not quite sure what you mean,” I say, trying to sound casual despite my shock. Only two people in Tokyo know about my affair, and yet my now ex-wife hears about it in Kyoto? 

“Shuichi slipped up talking to Eiri in front of Tatsuha when he was visiting them last week, and I figured out the rest for myself. Don’t play dumb with me, Seguchi,” Mika says. It was Shindou-san, then. I should have known.

“You know, Eiri-san asked me more or less the same thing when he found out,” I say with a sigh. “You Uesugis are a mighty suspicious lot. Anyway, I plan to end things with Hiroshi, so you can put to rest any conspiracy theories as to my ulterior motives. I am actually surprised that you didn’t tell your lawyer about it. It was, technically speaking, an affair.”

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” Mika says, shaking her head. “If I had wanted to play dirty, I think I had a much better argument for malicious neglect than infidelity, considering how Eiri has always been your top priority.”

“You would have never dragged Eiri-san into this,” I say. “In any case, I underestimated you, and I apologize.”

“Maybe I deserve that for cheating on you,” Mika says, lighting a cigarette and exhaling deeply. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you, you know. I was heartbroken.”

“So was I,” I admit to her. Mika gives me a sad smile.

“But not over me,” she says softly, and I don’t even bother to make denials. I at least owe her some honesty this late in the game.

“I believe you, about Nakano-san, you know,” Mika says. “I admit, I was bluffing a little. I wasn’t sure if it were romantic or business in nature, your relationship with him, until you confirmed it just now. I don’t know if you realize it, but you called him by just his first name. Your voice did this little choking thing when you said it. You care about him, don’t you?”

I never could hide anything from Mika, not really. The only thing that truly kept her from calling me out years ago was denial, due to her love for me. I was never unfaithful to her outside of my imagination, but still, that is quite a burden to carry for a decade, knowing the one you love loves another, always harboring that hope that someday that you will be the one they see. I cannot say if I could do the same in her place. Some things are better not put to the test in the long run, really. Hope is not as kind as its reputation would have you believe.

“I really should be getting back to Tokyo if I want to make it back at a decent hour, Mika-san. I have a long trip ahead of me,” I say, pushing away from the bridge’s railing and pulling out my phone to call a cab for the train station. “I hope we will keep in touch from time to time, Mika-san. I do wish you the very best, truly.”

“I know you do,” she says, giving me a light kiss on the cheek. “I don’t know what happened with the two of you, Tohma, but if it is just you being stubborn or trying to be a martyr about something, work it out with him, okay? You’ve been taking care of Eiri for a long time, and he’s fine now. Take care of yourself,” she says, placing her hand on mine.

I am truly touched, and it is almost too painful to bear for a moment, looking at the face of this woman who has been by my side for so many years, who I could never make as happy as she deserves to be. The only thing I know to do is to hug her tightly, and then let her go.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to finish, but here it is at last!

Hiro was tired, but he did feel considerably better than he had at the start of the day. It felt good to be back in the studio with his friends again, to be working hard on something they all loved to do. Shuichi had given him his full attention, making him laugh whenever he suspected that his mind was wandering back to Tohma, and even Suguru had lightened up, complimenting him on his new songs.

It was already getting quite late, and Hiro knew that Shuichi would want to get home to Yuki soon. They had listened to the rough recordings, choosing one song that Shuichi had written lyrics to for Suguru to help them arrange and rehearse, but Hiro still had one more song to play for them. Nervously, he told them that he was still working on the lyrics, and was relieved that Shuichi didn’t look offended at the idea.

“Um, well, here goes,” Hiro said, starting the track. Both of his friends fell silent as the ballad played, sharing looks with each other that Hiro hoped were due to being impressed. The song was still so personal to him, perhaps even more than before, and he stared at the carpet for most of it, finally looking up and seeing that his friends were no longer paying attention. Following their surprised looks, he turned around just in time to see Tohma walk out into the hall. Shuichi quickly turned off the music.

“So, um, yeah, great song, Hiro! I think we need to go home for the night though, don’t you, Fujisaki?” Shuichi asked, frantically gathering his things. Suguru shook his head as if coming to, looking confused.

“Well, I guess it is pretty late,” Suguru said.

“See you tomorrow, Hiro!” Shuichi said, giving him an urgent nod towards the door. “Go on, stupid,” he added with a loud whisper.

“Yeah, bye guys,” Hiro said, his heart pounding as he rushed out of the door.  
He saw the elevator door close, and cursed, catching the next one. Tohma managed to elude him all the way to his office, where Hiro cast an apologetic look at his secretary, who didn’t even have time to voice an objection as he walked straight in behind him.

Sakano and Tohma both turned to look at him, as he stood panting just inside the door. Tohma cleared his throat and gave Sakano his widest smile.

“I do appreciate all the hard work you’ve put in during my absence, Sakano-san,” Tohma said, placing his hands on the befuddled man’s back and none too subtly guiding him toward the door. “Nakano-san and I need to discuss Bad Luck’s recording session at the moment, though, so I’m afraid you will have to wait until tomorrow to fill me in. Have a nice evening.”

“But Shacho, I --” was all Sakano managed to get out before having the door shut on him.

Tohma gave a deep sigh, removing his coat as he walked past Hiro to his desk, turning around to lean against it. He focused on removing his gloves, seeming to be using the distraction to gather his thoughts, when Hiro decided to make his move.

Hiro had no intention of giving the man a chance to come up with the words of rejection or excuses he sensed were about to come. Seeing him again after what had to be one of the longest weeks of his life had given him all the resolve he needed in making up his mind about this. He wanted Tohma so badly right now, and he had to make him see that what they had was worth a try.

Tohma barely had time to look up before Hiro grabbed him around the waist and kissed him, lifting him up and sitting him on the edge of the desk. Tohma trembled slightly in his arms, giving a needy whine as Hiro bit his bottom lip, deepening their kiss with a sense of urgency, his hand traveling up the older man’s back and burying in soft platinum hair, knocking his hat onto the floor.

“Hiroshi,” Tohma panted with a throaty whisper, as Hiro peppered his long neck with kisses, pulling at the collar of his shirt. 

“I know, I know,” Hiro whispered, kissing up his jaw. “It’s crazy, scary even, how much I -- But you feel it too, don’t you?”

Tohma moaned as Hiro swept his tongue over his throat, and Hiro pulled back slightly. He wanted an answer. He needed to know if Tohma felt something, anything beyond lust for him. Perhaps this wasn’t the best way to go about it, he realized, feeling stupid, feeling weak for giving in to his baser instincts the second he had him alone. Tohma looked at him, his lips swollen and eyes clouded with need.

“Come home with me, Hiro,” Tohma purred. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go exactly, Hiro thought.

“No, I mean, yes, I want you so bad I can’t stand it, but -- but I need to talk to you about something. I need to tell you that I think I’m --” Hiro rambled breathlessly, when his phone began to ring, shattering his thoughts and taking his courage with them.

Hiro reluctantly stepped back and pulled the phone from his pocket, checking the number, cursing under his breath.

“Is something wrong?” Tohma asked, sliding off the desk and collecting himself as the phone continued to ring.

“It’s my idiot brother. He only calls when he‘s in trouble, so I‘m afraid I have to get this,” Hiro grumbled, Tohma nodding slowly as he answered. 

Unbelievable, Hiro thought to himself. He wouldn’t blame Tohma for pushing him out of his office right now behind Sakano. But Tohma just watched him with a blank expression, his hair sticking up at odd angles. It took everything he had not to hang up and continue ravishing him.

“Hey! What’s up?” Yuuji said cheerfully. He was drunk.

“What the hell do you want at this hour?” Hiro asked irritably.

“Am I interrupting some hot date, baby bro?” Yuuji asked with a laugh. Hiro glanced at Tohma, who was still leaning against the desk, watching him with a questioning expression.

“As a matter of fact, you are. A very hot date,” Hiro said, giving Tohma a heated look.

“Ah, shit, bro, I’m sorry,” Yuuji slurred. “I need you to come pick me up so I can crash at your place tonight. I don’t have to spoil your fun though! Bring her along! I’ll give you plenty of privacy when we get to your place, I promise!” Hiro wondered for a moment how exactly inebriated you had to be to think that three people could ride a motorcycle.

“Damn it, Yuuji!” Hiro said with a sigh. “Tell me where you are.”

Hiro got the directions to a bar in a red-light district neighborhood of Shinjuku, while fantasizing about the many ways he wanted to commit fratricide. He finally ended the call and turned to Tohma.

“I have to ride out to Kabukicho, and pick the idiot up,” Hiro said. “It’ll probably take me at least an hour to get him and take him to my place, fuck it all.”

“Do be careful. That neighborhood can be unsafe this late at night,” Tohma said, giving him one of those smiles that made him nervous. He prayed silently that he hadn’t blown everything. 

“Tohma, I -- I’m sorry for this. You have no idea how sorry,” Hiro said, giving him the most earnest look he could manage, and praying, praying…

“You are more than welcome to swing by my place once he’s settled,” Tohma said with a shrug, then bent down to pick up his hat. As soon as he stood up again, Hiro gave him a quick kiss.

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything until I know what kind of trouble he’s in. I’ve missed you so much,” Hiro said.

“Really? I couldn‘t tell,” Tohma said, with a coy grin.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get in, I promise,” Hiro said. 

“Please do,” Tohma said, returning his peck with a more lingering kiss.

“Trying to rub it in by reminding me what I’m missing?” Hiro asked.

“Maybe just a little,” Tohma said with an exaggerated expression of innocence that he was just a little too good at.

OoOoO

Hiro opened the door of his apartment, and flicked on the lights, kicking it closed behind him as his brother stumbled past him into the room. He was still fuming after cursing his brother for a solid hour to Shinjuku and back. He’d found him sitting on the sidewalk between the bar and the hostess club next door, looking around him like he were expecting to get jumped any minute. Knowing his brother, this was never a good sign.

Yuuji’s so-called acting career had turned into something more akin to professional vagrancy. He slid through life on charm, finding friends and girlfriends to help him out and give him places to stay when he couldn’t make rent, but his charm didn’t always keep him out of trouble. He’d had exactly two acting gigs in as many years, both times as extras, and the rest of the time he was getting fired from things like washing dishes and delivering pizzas.

But still, he was family. Hiro loved his irresponsible big brother that was more like a younger one, and tried to help him when he could. After his mother had all but stopped speaking to him after he ditched med school, Yuuji had been the only family he had for a while, before Bad Luck‘s success had finally won him his parents‘ blessing. He supposed the fact that he had bought them a house hadn’t hurt either, he thought, somewhat bitterly. But Yuuji had at least been supportive, even if he was a mooch. Hiro had tried giving money to him several times, hoping it would help him find his feet, but his reckless sibling always seemed to find some way to lose it, usually at the track.

“I thought you had an apartment right now,” Hiro said, watching irritably as Yuuji opened his refrigerator and helped himself to a beer he clearly did not need.  
“Can’t go back there right now,” Yuuji said, plopping onto a recliner.

“What have you done now?” Hiro asked, crossing his arms.

“I may have borrowed a little money from some not so nice types,” Yuuji said, not meeting his eyes.

“How much?” Hiro asked with a sigh. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to pay something or someone off to keep his brother from being beaten up or jailed. 

Yuuji rattled off a number that was roughly twice what Hiro had left in savings. Hiro threw up his hands.

“Well, you’re fucked then. Do you think I have that kind of money just lying around? What the hell were you thinking?” Hiro demanded.

“I was thinking I had a sure bet,” Yuuji said, shaking his head. Hiro sat down on the couch for a moment, his face in his hands.

“So, how serious are these guys, do you think?” Hiro asked, looking up at last. “I mean, if they kill you, they aren’t going to get any money.”

“No, they aren’t going to kill me yet anyway, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t prepared to put me in the hospital,” Yuuji said, clearly more agitated than he was trying to appear, his hands shaking. “I once knew a guy that owed them half as much. They broke both of his legs.”

“Damn it, Yuuji! And you borrowed money from them anyway?” Hiro yelled, standing up and beginning to pace. “Do you think we can get them off your back for a while with half? It’s all I have.” Unless I sell my bike and guitars he thought, swallowing hard. But it still wouldn’t be quite enough, and would take more time than they had.

“I don’t think they take payments, Hiro,” Yuuji said, laying his head back. “I feel dizzy.”

“Please go to the bathroom if you think you’re going to puke,” Hiro said, trying to calm down. “I need to make some phone calls.”

Hiro went outside, lighting a cigarette and pacing, looking at his phone and trying to decide who to call first, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see a large, rough looking man that he didn’t know, with another younger guy with bleached hair and piercings standing behind him. 

“Looks like you were right. He did go running to his little pop star brother,” the first man said over his shoulder to the other one, smirking. “Didn’t he know this is the first place we’d look? Yuuji ain’t too bright.”

“We don’t need to have any trouble here,” Hiro said as calmly as he could manage. “You’re going to get your money very soon. I just have to make some calls.”

“Damn straight we’re going to get it soon,” the first man said. The second guy pulled out a knife and grinned. “He had until tonight.”

“Look, violence isn’t going to solve --” Hiro started, as the other man reached out and grabbed him by the hair, jerking him closer. Hiro ground his teeth, wanting badly to fight back, but knowing he couldn’t take them both.

“I seen this guy on TV, playing with that little pink haired kid, you know, the one they’re always talking about because he takes it up the ass?” the guy with the knife said, stepping closer.

“Oh, yeah? He’s on TV?” the other man said, jerking his head back hard to look at his face.

“Yeah. He’s even prettier in person,” the one with the knife said, flicking his tongue at Hiro suggestively. “Too bad we don’t have more time to play.”

“Tomorrow night, bitch, around this time,” the large man said, punching him hard in the stomach. Hiro gasped in pain, his eyes watering as the man let go of his hair and he fell to his knees.  
The other man shoved him down with his foot, giving him a vicious kick in the side of the head.

“Your piece of shit brother better have our money tomorrow, or next time we won’t be so nice,” he said with a laugh. 

It was the last thing Hiro heard before everything went black.

OoOoO

I’m all too aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. I check my phone for what feels like the one hundredth time, as I drive a bit faster than I probably should. A very recently divorced man rushing out into the night to check up on the very lover he had decided to end it with, all because he hasn’t answered his call. All because he has some premonition of danger. When did my life turn into one of Eiri-san’s novels? Perhaps I am every bit as obsessively overprotective as Eiri-san has always accused me of being. There is likely a very rational explanation for my not hearing from him.

But Hiro is loyal, I tell myself. He is honest. He would not promise me he would call and then just forget. Nor would he be ignoring me when I call him. It has been three hours now. Something is clearly wrong. I have to at least be sure.

It is difficult to put my emotions into words as I pull up to find Hiro lying unconscious on the sidewalk, as I rush to his side and see the blood on his face. I call his name and try to access the damage, to determine whether I should call an ambulance or take him to the ER myself.

“Tohma?” he says weakly, stirring at last, and I am filled with a wave of relief.

“Hiroshi, what had happened? Don’t move yet,” I say, placing my hands on his chest to discourage him from sitting up in case of spinal injury.

“Couple of thugs jumped me. My brother owes them money,” Hiro says, wincing. “One of them kicked me in the head, but I think I’m alright.”

“I think we should take you to the hospital in case of a concussion,” I say. “Where is your brother?”

“He’s passed out drunk inside, while I’m out here getting my ass kicked,” Hiro says with a bitter smile. Well, at least he’s making jokes, I think.

After carefully determining it is okay, I help him into the passenger seat of my car, and go to fetch his inebriated sibling, telling Hiro to do whatever is needed to stay conscious until we can get him examined. Inside, I find his brother snoring loudly, his head tossed back in the recliner, and shake him awake.

“Who the hell are -- where’s Hiro?” he asks in sleepy confusion, as I corral him out of the apartment. I have a lot of questions for him myself, but they can wait until Hiro is seen to. 

I call K on the way to the hospital and tell him to meet me there. This situation is entirely unacceptable. Someone will indeed be made to pay, and it will not be Hiro or his brother.

OoOoO

Hiro opened his eyes, feeling dizzy and confused. He tried to sort through his muddied thoughts to figure out where he was. The last thing he could clearly recall was getting kicked in the head. He groaned, and turned his head slightly, realizing he was in a hospital bed.

“Hiroshi?” he heard a voice ask just out of his vision. Tohma? 

“How did you --?” Hiro asked groggily, Tohma’s face appearing above him as the man stood.

“You have a concussion, so you are being kept for observation. I had K-san take your brother to a hotel for the night. Everything is going to be just fine, Hiroshi,” Tohma said soothingly, running a cool hand over his forehead.

“But how did you know? What are you doing here?” Hiro asked.

“Ah, the doctors said you may have some temporary memory loss,” Tohma said. “You were remembering just fine when I found you, so I wasn’t sure if that would be the case. Anyway, I went to your apartment to check on you because you never called me back, and here we are.”

“Thank you, Tohma,” Hiro said. “I’ve given you one hell of a home coming tonight, huh?”

“Well, it’s been anything but dull,” Tohma said.

“Is my phone close by? I need to call Shuichi about something important,” Hiro said with an anxious expression.

“If this is about the situation with your brother, consider it taken care of,” Tohma said with a with a wicked gleam in his eyes, and a smile that sent a chill down the guitarist’s spine.

“What do you mean?” Hiro asked. “You haven’t done anything, um, bad to anyone, have you?”

“Well, not personally,” Tohma said, the picture of innocence.

“Tohma, please tell me you haven’t hurt anyone. This is something for the police to deal with,” Hiro said, growing uneasy at the thought that he was finally seeing the side of his lover that everyone had always warned about.

“They have their money, Hiroshi. I just had it delivered along with a little lesson about harming those with whom I am associated,” Tohma said. “It is a mistake I doubt they will be making again.”

“Can you please just tell me that no one was seriously hurt?” Hiro asked with a frown. 

“No one was seriously hurt but you, Hiroshi,” Tohma said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“I really want to believe you,” Hiro said. Tohma looked up at him, his expression torn between hurt and anger.

“What good is any of my power, Hiroshi? What good is any money I make or any hard work that I have done, if petty thugs, insolent insects like those are able to do something like this to you without suffering for it? What kind of man am I at all if I can’t do anything to protect the ones that I care about?” Tohma asked angrily.

Hiro was silent for a long moment, unsure of what to say. In some ways Tohma was right, or at least he could sympathize. If he could find the men who had raped and beaten Shuichi, he wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t kill them for what they had done. And these men that Tohma had unleashed God-knew-what upon would have been more than willing to do far worse to him or his brother. Perhaps it was easier to stand in judgment of Tohma’s rather gray area morality in these matters because Tohma actually had the power to get his revenge instead of just fantasize about it.

And whether he had realized or not in his emotional tirade, Tohma had more or less just confessed that he had feelings for him. Hiro looked up him, stunned. From the look on his face, it had probably been unintentional and he hadn‘t even realized what he‘d said. Hiro would have to wait for a better opportunity to bring it up, when Tohma wasn’t feeling so defensive.

“I think I can understand why you would do something like this, Tohma,” Hiro said. “But you have to understand why this kind of thing bothers me, and well, why it makes me wonder about the kind of things you might do in the future.” Tohma was still shaking with emotion, and sat heavily in the chair he had pulled up to Hiro’s bedside, placing his elbows on the mattress and burying his face in his hands for a moment before looking back up at him.

“Hiroshi, my reputation is a very important part of who I am, of what I do. Some of it is well deserved, and a lot of it is exaggerated. A man in my position must make a lot of enemies if I am to succeed, and if I am not feared to some extent then I leave myself and everyone I care about open to attack. 

I will admit that I do abuse my power when it comes to protecting those closest to me. I cannot pretend to regret it though. I’m fully aware that it also comes with a lot of sacrifices, like the very ones I’m trying to protect not giving me their trust, and my not even being able to blame them in the least,” Tohma said. His gaze broke away from Hiro’s with his final words, the fury in his eyes fully extinguished now, leaving him looking very tired.

“I -- I do trust you, Tohma,” Hiro said, sitting up and placing his hand on Tohma’s. Tohma gave him a sad smile, that almost looked pitying.

“Don’t you see that you probably shouldn’t, darling?” Tohma asked softly. “I’m not even sure I trust myself when it comes to matters like this.”

“Hiro?” a voice was heard calling just inside the door.

“He’s in here, Shindou-san,” Tohma replied and stood. “I took the liberty of having K call him, and made sure they let him in.”

Shuichi appeared, giving Tohma a curious look before rushing to the bed at the sight of his friend.

“Hiro? Are you okay? What happened?” Shuichi asked, looking at the bandage on Hiro’s bruised face in alarm.

“Take good care of him, Shindou-san,” Tohma said, making his way quickly to the door, before Hiro could object.

“Did Tohma have you beat up? Did he come in here to finish the job with a pillow while you were sleeping?” Shuichi asked shrilly, whipping around like he were going to follow the man into the hall and strangle him.

“No. Sit down you idiot,” Hiro said with a sigh. “He didn’t put me in the hospital, he brought me here.”

A doctor walked into the room carrying a chart and asked Hiro a series of questions, before asking him to stand and walk around the room, and checking for any numbness in his arms and legs. Once she was satisfied, she informed Hiro that she believed it would be okay for him to check out, but wanted him to stay with someone for the next twenty-four hours to keep an eye on him.

Shuichi slipped out of the room while she listed off any symptoms that she wanted him to return to the hospital for. He came back in as the doctor was leaving, and Hiro was searching the nightstand for his phone to call his mother, a conversation he did not look forward to.

“You’re coming home with us,” Shuichi announced cheerfully. “I just discussed it with Yuki out in the hall.”

Hiro wondered how on earth he had made that negotiation, as the writer joined them in the room to wait for the nurse, looking around like he’d rather be anyplace else.

OoOoO

After the hassle of Hiro getting dressed and brought to the car in a wheelchair per the hospital’s policy, they were headed back to the apartment in the weak light of the early morning. Shuichi had insisted that Hiro ride shotgun for his comfort, but he saw through the little singer’s ploy as he looked in the rearview and saw him stretch and yawn before flopping onto his side in the backseat. Yuki gave Hiro a side-long glance, catching him watching his lover in the mirror. Great, as if this situation weren’t awkward enough, Hiro thought, turning his eyes dutifully straight ahead of him.

“So, why are we taking care of you instead of Seguchi?” Yuki asked, passing his lighter to him as he saw Hiro pull out a cigarette.

“I think Tohma has taken enough care of me for one day,” Hiro said, lighting up and passing the lighter back. “If this is too much of an inconvenience for you, Yuki-san, I can call my mother.”

“Fine, I get it. It’s none of my fucking business,” Yuki grumbled.

Hiro felt a stab of guilt, realizing that Yuki had simply been expressing interest in his situation, albeit in his own socially graceless way, and that Hiro had taken it as him being annoyed at helping him. For all Shuichi had always insisted that his Yuki actually had human emotions and was just really lousy at expressing them, Hiro had never really seen him be anything other than a coldhearted prick. He knew his perception could possibly be clouded by jealousy, but he still wasn’t sure he’d ever understand Shuichi’s tireless devotion to the man. Tohma’s either, for that matter, he thought with a frown.

“So what exactly happened to you, Hiro? You haven’t even told me anything, other than that someone tried to kick your head in,” Shuichi asked after a long pause in which Hiro had been sure the singer had dozed off.

Hiro gave an account of being called to go pick up his brother, and of all of Yuuji’s stupidity, as they arrived at their destination and took the elevator up to the apartment. Hiro and Shuichi took a seat on the couch while Yuki went to make coffee.

Yuki returned while Hiro was giving Shuichi a brief recount of his and Tohma’s conversation, Hiro feeling a bit uneasy under the writer’s scrutiny, and leaving out some of the more personal details. Shuichi looked up at Yuki expectantly. 

“Where’s mine?” he asked, looking at Yuki’s mug.

“Waiting for you to make it yourself,” Yuki said, taking a seat on the loveseat facing them. Shuichi pouted and called Yuki an asshole, before going into the kitchen.

“So let me get this straight, and you can tell me to butt out anytime,” Yuki said, sitting his coffee on the table. “Some guys beat you up and put you in the hospital because your brother owes them money, and Seguchi sent the psychotic American to take of it. And now you’re pissed off at him for doing exactly the sort of thing Seguchi does. Who neglected to tell you that my erstwhile brother-in-law does not exactly like for anyone else to play with his toys?”

“Hey, I’m not exactly thrilled to be defending Seguchi-san, but to be honest, Hiro? I’d have beat the shit out of those guys myself if I had the chance! They could have killed you, and you didn’t even do anything to them!” Shuichi chimed in through the open kitchen door.

“I’m pissed off at him for not letting me make my own decisions about my own life,” Hiro said. “I’m not really all that upset anymore about him getting involved with what happened last night, even if I really don’t like using violence to solve things, and I don‘t really feel comfortable with taking his money. What’s bothering me is that now I feel like he’s trying to shut me out. He went an entire week without speaking to me, and now he gives me some bullshit line about how I shouldn’t trust him because he doesn’t trust himself, whatever that means.”

“Yeah, get used to that shit if you’re serious about Tohma, the World‘s Own Martyr,” Yuki said, flicking an ash into the ashtray. “I’ll just warn you now. He’s been trying to make my decisions for me since I was a kid. You’re just lucky he doesn’t fixate all his guilt on you. He means well, but fuck is he annoying.”

“Yeah, I kind of got the impression that he tends to wig out if he doesn’t feel like he’s in control of the situation,” Hiro said with a frown.

“Yeah, he seems like he’s happiest when he’s in control, but I think he likes it best when he’s presented with a challenge,” Yuki said with a smirk. “It’s probably why he likes you so much. And he does, by the way, even if he’s being cagey as fuck about it. You’re a strong-willed guy who won’t take his shit. He gets bored if you bend to him too much.”

“If that’s true, Yuki-san, then why did he leave?” Hiro asked.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s coming here for dinner,” Yuki said with a shrug.

“He is?” Shuichi asked, returning with coffee for himself and Hiro. “How did that happen?”

“He found me on his way out at the hospital, and somehow managed to invite himself,” Yuki said, stubbing out his cigarette and standing. “Well, I’m going to go take a nap, since you morons got me up at such an ungodly hour.”

OoOoO

I’m pretty sure that I am walking into a trap, I think to myself as I drive to Eiri’s apartment, although I am not entirely aware of what kind. It seems that Eiri has finally become aware that he is probably the only person alive who truly holds the power to manipulate me as well as I manipulate others, or at the very least has decided for some reason to wield his powers after all these years.

It was all entirely too endearing for me not to play along, when I ran into Eiri at the hospital. After discussing Mika and his family, and giving him a brief rundown on why we were all there in the first place, Eiri had asked me about an ingredient in a recipe for something I had made for him on the pretense that he was making it for dinner. He knew full well how awkward and transparent the inquiry was, just as he knew full well that I would offer to come by and make the dish for him myself. Far be it from Uesugi Eiri to ever simply come right out and ask someone over for dinner. And of course his acceptance of my offer was stated as something along the lines of how he didn’t feel like cooking anyway, and that I could do whatever I wished. Yes, Eiri, you’re the one doing me the favor by allowing me into your presence, after all. 

Sakano was not at all pleased by my three hour work day appearance. Oh, well.

So now that my suspicions have arisen, I come to the most obvious conclusion, that Shindou had some part in this, and that it is most likely something to do with Hiroshi. Perhaps he feels he owes me one when it comes to interfering with personal relationships? He always has been a rather presumptuous little insect.

Hiroshi invades my thoughts again, as I recollect the many ways he has made me lose control since my return. Let it never be said that he has no talent in finding new ways to surprise me. He seduced the very reason from me in my own office last night, then made me lose my temper just this morning. He both confounds and excites me, my Hiroshi. His very goodness and sincerity will be the end of me.

These are my thoughts as I ring the doorbell, and find the trap sprung as he opens the door for me. I hide my surprise with a smile and some frivolous flirtatious comment that I’m sure fools no one, as he helps me with the grocery bag I carry. I sense from his rather stiff greeting that Shindou was perhaps none the wiser himself after all, which is indeed interesting. I hesitate to even hazard a guess at your motives, Eiri, but well played.

“Hiro’s doctor doesn’t want him to be alone, so the brat offered up my couch like he owns it,” Eiri says. It’s the only explanation he’ll ever offer I’m sure.

I follow Hiro into the kitchen, trying to figure out how exactly I plan to play this as I search for the apron. I have just laid my fingers upon it when Eiri walks in behind us, and snatches it from me.

“You brought what I needed, so why don’t you go have a drink on the balcony?” Eiri says. I give him a look of confusion.

“Eiri-san, you said you did not feel like cooking,” I say.

“Changed my mind. Both of you. Get the fuck out of my kitchen,” Eiri says, jerking his head to direct Hiro and looming over me with a scowl.

“Manners, Eiri,” I say half-heartedly, but obey him nonetheless, finding the wine already set on the patio table along with the glasses, and the balcony door already opened. Shindou’s set-up for sure on this part anyway. It lacks Eiri’s subtlety.

Shuichi shuts the door behind us, and I see him shake his head as he goes to join Eiri in the kitchen.

“You’re angry with me,” I say. Hiro has been most uncharacteristically quiet, almost sullen, since I appeared. I may as well break the ice.

“No, Tohma. Not exactly. I’m just confused,” Hiro says, looking at the view instead of me. I sit, watching the evening breeze blow his hair gently as I study his profile. “I -- I know I’m the one who seems to always initiate everything that has happened between us, but you can’t tell me anymore that you don’t care about me, Tohma. You said as much yourself back at the hospital, so now I want to know what you’re so damned afraid of.”

He sighs, and turns to look at me, his look ever open and earnest and so much more than I deserve. 

“Look, I know these kinds of things can be scary. You’ve just come home from getting a divorce, and whether you were still in love with her or not, I know that has to make you feel pretty cautious about getting involved right now. I’m not trying to be completely oblivious or insensitive here. But for God’s sake, Tohma. I just -- can you possibly have any doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you?” His voice falls almost to whisper near the end, and his gaze has fallen.

“You played that song yesterday, in the studio. The one that wasn’t intended for the band to use, do you remember the one?” I ask in an almost absent way, pulling at the fingers of my gloves to remove them.  
“What?” he asks, his brow wrinkling in confusion at the abrupt change of subject, before his eyes widen slightly. “You think I’m still hung up on Shuichi, don’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” I drawl boredly, tossing the removed lambskin gloves on the patio table, and reaching for the opened bottle of wine. “Look, Hiroshi. Do you want to know why I am reluctant to get further involved in this -- what should we call it -- delightful distraction? Because I will try to control you. I will try to possess you, and then I will destroy anything that gets in my way. And yes, I suppose that it does mean that I care for you that I would rather not have it go that route, but don’t think for one minute that I am going to play consolation prize to that little fool.”

Hiro’s lips draw into a thin line, as he stares at me, long and hard, almost as though he doesn’t recognize me at all. He begins to pace. Good. He’s seeing what he is supposed to, what I am allowing him to see. This is back in my control. He is likely fuming now, only fighting back the instinct to come to the defense of his idiot friend just yet so that he won’t prove me entirely correct in one careless breath. This going exactly the way I want it to. And it hurts. It hurts more than I expected, actually.

When he finally does turn to yell at me, however, he doesn’t yell at all. He kneels beside my chair and looks up at me to speak, with an exasperated smile and eyes shining a bit brightly in the dim light coming out from the apartment. 

“You are such a little hypocrite,” Hiro says, chuckling softly, pulling my hand onto my knee and holding it. “I have an ex-wife and a whatever the fuck Eiri is to contend with, and you’re really going to push me away over Shuichi? The reason I was able to share that song is because I re-wrote the words -- no, you did. It became yours because I knew you liked it, and it only made me think of you after that.  
You want to possess my heart? Fine. He didn’t want it, Tohma, and if you do, it’s yours. I don’t think you’ve ever tried to give yours to someone who wanted it either, so you should know how different it feels when you finally do. It isn’t some fucking consolation prize. It’s --”

“Wonderful,” I find myself finishing for him before I can stop myself. 

He looks up at me and smiles, with such hope, such tenderness, and I know I am lost. He pulls me down and kisses me then though, and I am found. And it is fine. More than fine. 

OoOoO

Sakano has threatened to throw himself from a first story window at least thrice this week over the stress of the looming cameras outside of NG. And people accuse me of being a drama queen. Or rather, Eiri and Hiroshi do. They’re the only ones who would dare.

Perhaps I’ll send Sakano on a vacation when all of this has died down. On second thought, he’d probably see it as punishment. I think love may have softened me. I need to fire someone arbitrarily before I leave today just to be sure. There’s that one sound engineer whose ties are always an inch too short…

In any case, Sakano’s blood pressure is hardly my main concern right now. The divorce hit the press with only minor repercussions, but grew substantially in public interest once the well supported rumors and candid photos of Hiroshi and I made the tabloids, many months after the fact, mind you. We are a far more sensible and subtle pair than Eiri and Shuichi, after all.

It is very strange to have gone from the recognized, respected but otherwise low key status of celebrity to being the true focus of interest for the first time in my career. How do Ryuichi and Eiri stand this? The questions they ask are so invasive and rude.

“Two more hours until we leave for the airport,” Hiroshi murmurs behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing a kiss to my temple as I stare out of the window of my NG office. I’m taking him to Paris. My first vacation since my fifth anniversary with Mika. Will the NG building still be standing when I return?

“Stop worrying,” Hiro says, reading my mind. I love it when he does that. Being understood is almost as amazing as being loved. In these six months we’ve been together he has simply taken my more neurotic aspects in stride. I think I amuse him.

“Who would have thought we’d be fighting off vultures at the airport for our own get away back then?” I muse. I’ve sent K in ahead of us, but that is never any guarantee of success.

“It doesn’t matter what a bunch of strangers know. My mother knows. Now that was stressful,” he says with a laugh, squeezing me tighter. He is every bit as private a person as I am, I know, but he’s being strong for me. That’s just the way he is. I thought I would mother hen him to death when this all started, especially given his age, but he has shown himself more than willing to take care of me as well.

My cell phone rings, and to my utter surprise it is Eiri.

“Hey, the brat and I aren’t going to be able to see you off. Idiot fell off his bike and hit his head. Wonder it didn’t crack the pavement... Anyway, he had to get stitches and he wouldn’t stop whining until I called to let you both know,” Eiri blows out impatiently, the sounds of traffic audible in the background as he drove.

“It’s quite all right. It probably would have just made the press situation more frenzied in any case,” I say, winking at Hiroshi.

“Yeah, well, that’s all I had to say. See you when you get back,” Eiri says, obviously eager to end the call. In all these months, I’ve let the matter slide, but in that moment, I just cannot resist.

“Eiri?”

“What now?”

“You certainly went to some extraordinary lengths, for you, in getting me to stop interfering with your life,” I say, and smile at the ensuing silence.

“What of it? Worked didn’t it?” he finally snaps.

“I just wanted to say thank you, Eiri,” I say softly and hang up the phone.

“So? Two hours you said?” I say, turning around to face my lover with a meaningful look.

“Two whole, hopefully for the safety of anyone who tries, uninterrupted hours?” Hiro asks with a hopeful expression, already looking me up and down like he can’t decided where to start.

“Let me just relay the outgoing death threat to my secretary,” I say, shedding my jacket on the way to the phone on my desk, and giving him my widest smile, my real one, the one that is only for him.


End file.
